Two Sides of a Sesterce
by Pallan Minerva
Summary: Boudica always hated how the Emperor of Flowers laughed so boisterously. She hated that stupid verbal tic she would utter at every opportunity. She hated the praise and attention she demanded from their Master at the end of every mission. Most of all, Boudica hated that she liked it all so much.
1. Chapter 1

"You want to _what_?" Boudica counted herself fortunate she had just polished off the last of her mead, or she might have spat it all over Nero's obliviously cheerful face.

"Take a walk in the gardens," said the blonde, her green eyes alight with the summer breeze. "I hear the carnations are just starting to bloom. We should go see them together."

"Take a walk. With _me_." No matter how many times the Celt turned the idea over in her head, it still didn't make sense. Even Nero had to realize how much Boudica hated her, hated the golden tyranny represented by her scarlet coat and proud bearing.

She scowled at the blonde, waiting for her to get the hint. Apparently she could wait a long time, as the Roman stood there with her typical pride, the curl of her lips dripping with that innocent smugness that never failed to raise Boudica's hackles. How could anyone lead an empire so bloodthirsty, and still believe herself to be so beloved?

_Fine_. She set down her cup with a certain viciousness that would have set off alarm bells in a wiser person. But no, not Nero. Never Nero, so sure that the world would bend to her every whim so long as she smiled charmingly at it. _I'll play her game. But if it's companionship she seeks, she won't like where I finish it_.

She rose from her seat and nodded stiffly at the blonde. As expected, the Roman took it naturally as acquiescence. She chattered gaily at her as she led her through the corridors and into the glass dome of the inner gardens.

As soon as they crossed the threshold, Boudica almost choked on the cloying perfume of the carnations. As promised (_threatened?_), they had invaded the grounds with their riot of pink petals and slender leaves, crowding out the more dignified violets and primroses.

_How fitting._

She sighed as she glanced at Nero, expecting her to launch into some speech about the splendour of spring among the green hills. But to her surprise, the emperor's expression was uncharacteristically thoughtful as she reached for one of the blooms.

"These would look lovely on my nightstand," she murmured, her gaze lost somewhere in the tangled leaves. Even Nero was usually able to focus better than this, if only to declare her own virtues. Clearly she had something else on her mind.

Boudica sighed impatiently. "Out with it, then. You didn't bring me here to ask my advice on flowers. What do you want, Rome?"

Nero's laugh was the scraping dissonance of a violinist that missed a note. "I suppose it was too much to hope we could have a pleasant walk together. I've noticed that whenever you're in my company, a certain... tension... grows between us."

Jade flicked towards her, catching and holding her gaze. "That's actually what I wished to discuss with you." Her voice was a soft whisper among the buzzing of the insects. "I'd like to be... friends."

_What?_

Then she straightened, regaining the sliver of pride she had momentarily let fall away. "Umu! Yes, why not? For all our sad history, we served well as comrades under Master! And we shine magnificently on the battlefield." Her smile was the warmth of sunlight. "Let us turn the page on the unfortunate past! From now on, we shall forge our path together."

Boudica was speechless, but not thoughtless. _That mead must have been stronger than I thought... even she cannot be _this _stupid._

She heaved a sigh as she considered her next words. As much vicious satisfaction as she would have drawn from pouring out her heart's venom on this infuriating woman, they were both arrows in their Master's quiver. She might find herself forced to work with her again on another mission, where festering wounds might prove a fatal liability. While Boudica could work through such resentments, as much as she hated it, she doubted the pampered emperor could do the same.

So it was in mostly measured tones that she ground out her response. "I don't think that will ever be possible for us," she said. "Some differences cut too deep."

"Don't say that!" said Nero, absently tearing at the flower in her hand. Boudica found herself watching the petals flutter down to the path at their feet. "Anything can be resolved with good cheer and open hearts."

She laughed, the ringing of golden bells. "Why, I have had many a deep quarrel in the past, even with my cherished companions. We always managed to move past our disagreements." Her smile turned sly, an expression Boudica hadn't thought her capable of. "If not with words, then with action."

"Action? You propose a duel?" Boudica's lips curled into a wolf's grin. _Finally, she's making sense_. "Very good. Name the time and place."

Nero's eyes widened. "What? No, of course not. Diplomacy before force, as my uncle always said." The smirk returned, more maddening than ever. "I have rarely ceded the victory in verbal sparring. But on those occasions, I always won the subsequent argument of the sheets."

Boudica's jaw dropped.

_She did _not _just proposition me. I refuse to believe that she is that audacious._

Except she couldn't quite convince herself of that. Not when those emerald eyes were gleaming at her and those full lips were stretched into a cat-like grin.

_Does she not know the _outrage _committed upon me and my kin? What her accursed soldiers did to my flesh and blood_? She felt acid running through her veins. _She calls herself Rome to anyone who cares to listen, and she _dares _invite me into her bed_?

There was no cheer in Boudica's answering smile, just a hard edge of steel. "Who am I to turn down an alliance with Rome? Lead on then, Emperor of Flowers."

She had been warned. No reasoning person would miss the implication in her words, or the brittle ice in her voice. But Nero was immune to reason, for her entire face lit up as if she had just been offered the rarest of fruit on a platter.

"Umu! I knew you would see things my way!" She eagerly tugged on Boudica's sleeve, pulling her along after her. "Don't worry, everything will be made splendid! You have my word as emperor."

_Splendid indeed_, thought Boudica darkly as she followed. _Nothing more splendid than Rome's arrogance in pieces at my feet_.

Ten minutes later, the Celt found herself ushered into a vault of vanity. Nero seated her on a golden chair draped in leopardskin, humming as she set out cups with a clumsy eagerness befitting of someone who had often seen others serve, but had little experience doing so herself.

Boudica let her eyes roam over the canopy bed where Rome expected to make her yield. The rich purple spread looked decadently soft, suited for perfumed nobility and courtesans. It made her want to vomit.

"Would you like me to take the lead? I find maidens often prefer to be ravished, rather than do the ravishing themselves."

She set a cup of wine in front of the Celt, then took a swallow of her own. "Ah, but you were married. Perhaps you would rather be the _pilum _than the _scutum_?"

Any goodwill vanished like smoke blown away by a gust of wind. _She can remember I had a husband, and still insult me this way_. Boudica's knuckles tightened on her own cup as she forced herself to raise it in an abbreviated toast.

"The spear, certainly," she said, and drained her wine in one go.

Nero's hips swayed with deliberate provocation as she approached Boudica, letting her fingers play along the spotted fur behind her head. "Then I shall be your sheathe," she purred.

She hitched her crimson skirts up before settling herself in Boudica's lap. Warm flesh slid against the expanse of skin between the Celt's skirt and the top of her leggings, as warm as the breath suddenly ghosting in her ear.

"Touch me. Make me feel the fire, the passion of the Iceni." She leaned forward, pressing generous breasts against Boudica's front, and suddenly her perfectly serviceable tunic felt unbearably thin. Nero's points were already stiff, and she found herself longing to tear away the white bodice, the better to tease them to full hardness.

Then she remembered who she was dealing with. _Rome_, in all the golden pomp that covered its rotting foundations, was presenting its throat to her, so confident that she would not dare bite.

_Time to teach her otherwise._

Nero's eyes closed blissfully as Boudica ran her fingers along the blonde's jawline, coaxing her into a kiss. They flew open as the Celt bit savagely down on her bottom lip, drawing blood. The iron in her mouth spurred the fire burning in her veins as she shoved the Roman back, ignoring her near-stupefied squawk.

"A pity you didn't learn from the mistakes of your successors," she growled, feeling the emperor shake under her grasp. "They had the wisdom to keep their gates closed when the _barbarian hordes_ arrived to ravage at their riches."

She leaned over the now-frightened blonde, nipping at her neck.

"And look at you," she continued, "so convinced that she is beloved by the entire world that she would throw her gates open to her enemies and beg them to take her."

A sharp tug was enough to tear away that ridiculous corset. Rome's chest was flushed a tantalizing pink, just begging for her claim to be impressed on it with tooth and tongue.

"Never thought you would let a savage this far, did you?" she said in a low tone. "Yet here I am, ready to plunder."

The rest of that extravagant clothing was an annoyance, standing between Boudica and her prize. She grabbed the lapels of Nero's coat and tore hard at the material, exposing the curve of her slender shoulders. A few more sharp tugs laid bare her entire upper body. The whine she let out made Boudica grin.

"Please, h-hold on!" the little Roman said. "Let me—"

She squeaked as Boudica's hands gripped the hem of her skirts and tore them off too, carelessly letting them fall to the side. Then she bit her lip and seemed to steel herself, a corner of hard marble in the jade of her eyes.

Rome reached up in an attempt to loosen the strings on the front of Boudicca's shirt. "Here, you should—"

Boudica growled as she violently slapped the grasping hands away. "This is not a negotiation, it's a seizure. I have seen the fruits of Rome's bargains, and they wither away as soon as they no longer suit her. Not this time."

Nero opened her mouth in an attempt to protest, but her eyes went wide as Boudica bit down along her jawline. She gave a shuddering little cry as the Celt sucked hard on the skin, enough to leave her mark in the nights to come.

"Please," she gasped.

Boudica only chuckled darkly before moving her mouth down Nero's body, trailing her lips and teeth possessively along shivering flesh. She could feel soft breasts heaving underneath her as she scored countless love bites along her collarbone, stomach, every inch of her new territory. When Nero tried to arch away, she dug her hands into the smooth curve of her back, her nails tracing along the spine as she stilled her prey.

Nero gave a throaty moan, before her expression twisted into shock. She shook her head even as her body leaned into Boudica's harsh caresses.

"Please, not so rough!" Something pleaded in those gleaming eyes. "I can show—"

"No need. All I want to see is you, helpless under me." She grabbed the little Roman abruptly by the waist before hauling her over a shoulder. Nero squeaked and struggled to no avail, her fists beating uselessly against the Celt's broad back. Her cries turned into gasps as she was thrown roughly on the bed, the better for Boudica to settle herself comfortably atop her.

_Gods above, I look forward to seeing you shatter under me._

* * *

Nero's head spun as she tried to find purchase on slippery sheets, her breaths coming out in sharp pants. Boudica's hair was a cascade of fire surrounding them like a curtain as the Celt sneered down at her. The Roman's throat constricted at the sight until she felt she was choking on air. _How could things have gone this wrong?_

Minutes earlier, they had been strolling together under the warm artificial sun of the gardens. Reconciliation, a cherished dream, had seemed so close within reach… a flower blossoming under the tender care of her words.

Now that hope was as tattered as the crushed petals slipping between her fingers.

_Everything I touch always crumbles to pieces in the end_. She might have laughed had she still had the breath to do so.

"You look good like this," the Celt said. "With a little bit of dirt and grime, you would fit right in one of your gaols."

Despite the cruelty in the curve of the other's lips, the pain in her eyes was all too real. _I'm sorry_. The words crawled up her throat, but the Emperor sealed her lips.

_Rome only apologizes when it is advantageous to do so. Sentiment has no place in this battle. _

The slightest impulse to protest rose and died as the Emperor seized the reins from her. She inwardly sighed and surrendered to him. After all, he had never led her astray in the past, not even when he had commanded her to execute her mother after the latest of many assassination attempts.

"A rose can bloom even in the hardest soil." Nero felt her lips curl up, unbidden, into the smallest of smirks.

A sharp snarl in her ear, and then Boudica shoved her arm up against the bedpost. She could feel something strapping her wrist against the frame, but instead of a dungeon's chain, soft cloth caught against her skin. She blinked as she realized it was torn silk from her own coverlet.

_I could break this easily_, she thought. She was not the strongest in the Saber class, though she would never admit as much to Master, but even she could easily snap such flimsy material with a simple flick of her wrist. She moved to do so when the Emperor's frown held her in place.

_Desist_, said the steely voice in her head, and her wrists went limp. _This is another path to resolve your differences. There is power even in vulnerability. Do not hesitate to capitalize upon it_.

It was hard to comply when the wolf was staring hungrily at her, but she managed to untense her shoulders and recline against the pillows. _There is a fire in Boudica you cannot quench on your own_, continued the Emperor. _She must quell it herself, and you will be the water with which she does so._

Nero shivered in her bonds as Boudica tied down the other hand, her motions none too gentle. _I'm afraid. She might hurt me_.

The Emperor tutted at her, like the wet nurse who once played with her before Mother sent her away. _Sometimes the argument of the sheets grows barbed. The body becomes a vessel for overflowing passions, not always of the tender kind_. Sapphirine eyes looked down at her. _It wouldn't be the first time_.

Nero shuddered. Boudica must have noticed, for her scowl gave way to a vicious grin. "Can you feel the fear?" she said huskily. "Now do you understand how your prey felt as your talons stripped everything from them?"

Nero opened her mouth to correct her, but it was swallowed up by Boudica's lips crashing against her own. It was an invasion of teeth and tongue plundering her mouth, bringing a sharp taste of horehound and ash. She recoiled, but those lips pressed their attack, holding far too long until Nero was gasping for breath, light-headed, her hands jerking against their restraints.

When the Celt finally released her, there was an icy fire in her gaze as she glared down at her.

"My my, this suits you even better," she said. "Now you look like a cheap whore I took off the street."

Nero wanted to curl away from that harshness, but the Emperor stiffened her spine. _You want her to spend herself_, said the steel voice, _and she cannot do that against a wilting flower. You must be her snapdragon, ever gracious under adversity._

She took a deep breath, then forced herself to smile up at the Celt. It only stoked the wolf's anger.

"Do you find this amusing?" growled Boudica. Coarse fingers descended upon Nero's breast, grabbing a point and tweaking it hard enough to make the Roman yelp. "Perhaps you will find it less so when you're writhing beneath me," she hissed.

There was another sound of tearing cloth, then Boudica was lifting tattered purple to her face. Nero blanched as she realized what the other meant to do.

"Please, no—"

The makeshift blindfold was ruthlessly tied around her eyes, Boudica grunting with satisfaction as she made it painfully taut. Nero blinked furiously against the darkness, her breathing sharp in her ears. Her heart was pounding so fast she could taste it on her abused tongue.

She yelped as fingernails ran along her abdomen, just enough to mark but not enough to break the skin. Without the benefit of sight, her sense of touch felt more sensitive than ever. Goosebumps raced all over exposed flesh and sent shivers coursing down her spine - and to her surprise, straight down to pool at her core. Heat blossomed unexpectedly, making her legs squirm against silken sheets. She had never felt so vulnerable—and yet it felt good, sinfully so.

The roaming hands trailed downwards, tracing the curves of Nero's trembling body before coming to rest on her hips.

"Where shall I sate my appetites first?" said the throaty voice in her ear. "Perhaps here?"

Palms rough from swordplay were rubbing possessively over her thighs, a sweet pressure that further fanned the flames building inside her. Nero bit her lip against the moan rising in her throat, choking it to a thin whimper. Alas, any hope that the wolf might overlook her slip was swiftly dashed by the wicked laughter echoing in the darkness above her.

"Or maybe here?" mocked the other, sliding her hands underneath Nero to firmly grab her ass. This time Nero couldn't help the gasp that tore from her lips as fingers roughly squeezed sensitive flesh, the mixture of pain and pleasure sending jolts through her overheated nerves.

"I don't... " she muttered thickly through the scarlet haze creeping into her brain. "I… please…"

"Both wrong." More laughter, dark and rich in her ears. "There's always one place where the wolf takes the deer, isn't there?"

Nero had scarcely any time to fear what the Celt meant, before the grasping hands abruptly pulled away. Only the Emperor's glower stopped her from arching upwards off the bed to beg for their return. Then she felt movement above her, heard the shuffling of knees on silk, and a heavy weight settled on top of her. She could feel Boudica's heat even through the linen of the warrioress' skirt and shirt. Then the other bore down, pressing her breasts fully against Nero's own aching chest. While the underside of the Celt's luscious mounds were covered in cloth, much of their round curves were as bare as the Roman's own. They were wonderfully soft where they flattened against Nero.

She was so distracted that she barely registered the breath ghosting up her neck until scorching lips attacked her throat again, mouthing and nipping at her pulse. Boudica seemed determined to leave a necklace of bites, red on her pale skin. Nero knew she wouldn't be able to hide them. Even if she wore a scarf, everyone would be able to see them in the flush of her cheeks.

_Mother always made sure of that._

Every little laugh under her captor's breath would remind Nero of the day she had been conquered. She blinked, and the darkness behind the blindfold gave way to vaulted walls and the mirrors upon them. Heavy grunts echoed in her ears as she willed the tears back, looking pleadingly towards the corner where Mother watched.

A sharp pain cracked across her cheek, wrenching her back to the present. "Do you think to escape me? Let your mind float above your pain and shame?" The wolf's growl was sharper than ever. "You will not get to hold yourself aloof as _that man _did."

Fingers buried themselves in her tresses and yanked hard, forcing Nero's throat upwards into a hungry mouth. Teeth scraped the sensitive line of her jugular, dangerously close to breaking skin. Nero whimpered, sure now that she had lost the last thread of her proud mantle. But for all the savagery of the Celt's—no, Boudica, she reminded herself—hot hands on her, there was an odd tenderness to her violence. In some ways that made it worse, for Nero found she could not numb herself to the sensations being pulled from her body.

She was fully in the Celt's grasp now, panting and helpless despite the flimsy silk restraining her.

_Submitting your flesh need not entail submitting your mind_, said the Emperor coldly. _Hold yourself proudly._

Nero tried to relax her muscles and reform the haughty mask of Rome's regnant, she honestly did, but it felt lopsided on her brow. However much the Emperor's icy glare lanced through her, it simply wouldn't hold.

_Do I even want it to_?

She wasn't sure anymore. Even in the harsh sun of Boudica's hostility, the pleasure flaring through her body was undeniable.

"Already your composure is slipping," said the wolf with vicious satisfaction. "What would your precious companions say now?"

Even more than her arousal, though, she found herself craving Boudica's attention. She had been a late arrival to Chaldea, and for all her good intentions, Master's focus had already been split among many Servants. It was the merest trickle of water in the empty chasm that had once been flooded by the adoration of her people.

_Until they turned away from me. Abandoned me._

She shook her head ferociously to keep that thought at bay. She didn't want to think about it.

"That's right," Boudica rumbled. "They all left you, didn't they? None of them could tolerate your burden for long." She ran a hand along Nero's cheek in a mockery of a lover's caress. "But don't worry. Your friends may turn away, but your enemy will always be with you."

The words were a knife to the heart, and yet the blood bubbled hot from the wound. For all the pleasures shared with her companions had been fleeting. But from the iron in Boudica's grip upon her hip, she knew a bond had been formed. Forged in enmity and spite, perhaps, but strong as a shield wall.

Boudica would think of her until they both faded. That knowledge grounded Nero, made her feel real for the first time since she had walked halls of cold white metal and felt loneliness press down upon her. Even if the gaze was full of vicious anger, it felt like home.

Nero thought she might do anything, so long as Boudica kept looking at her.

"Anything you want," Nero breathed, before the Emperor seized her tongue and tried to force his own words. Somehow they became tangled in her mouth, until she found herself gasping out her own destruction. "Rome shall provide for you, as the she-wolf provided for Romulus and Remus."

She immediately winced, but the damage had been done. Even with the blindfold, she could feel Boudica freeze above her. There was a sharp intake of breath, and the bed shook under the other's rage.

"You clearly do not grasp the situation you are in," hissed Boudica, venom dripping from every syllable.

Nero's plea died on her lips, replaced with a gasp when her left breast was taken firmly in hand. Calloused fingers grabbed her nipple and twisted to the point of sharp discomfort.

"This is not something for Rome to _grant,_" the wolf snarled. "This is for me to _ransack_ and _ruin._"

Rough palms cupped her breasts fully, kneading the flesh together and apart in a way that edged on painful, but also poured Greek fire directly into her veins. Without her sight, she was helpless to anticipate where she would be ravished next. Every scrape and spasm served as a beacon in the darkness, and Nero found herself leaning into them.

"You like this," growled the wolf, with a touch of mockery in its teeth.

"No!" snapped the Emperor with her voice, even if Nero herself thought otherwise. But her other self was so used to issuing commands that he easily drowned her out.

Boudica wasn't fooled for a moment. She gave a short bark of laughter. "Yes, you do. See how your body responds so wantonly to my every touch."

Her free hand teased the circle of her navel before trailing down towards her entrance. Nero found herself rubbing her legs together in both nervousness and anticipation, and when had she gotten so _wet_? It was mortifying, but she could do little but gasp when deft fingers slipped between her legs.

To Nero's consternation, the digits danced only along the outer folds, enough to stoke her heat without providing satisfaction. She thought she might go mad with frustrated lust. With a low groan, she found herself bucking her hips against that hand, desperately seeking more friction.

_Stop this at once!_ commanded the Emperor.

But Nero scarcely heard him over her own pulse pounding in her ears. She _wanted_, oh, she _needed _more pressure. She needed those rough fingers against her swollen clit. And yet they stilled, tracing only the laziest circles along her hypersensitive flesh.

"Please don't be cruel," Nero gasped out. "I never thought you so cruel."

The richness of sin oozed in Boudica's voice. "You have no idea how cruel I can be."

But she was kinder than her tone suggested, for she roughly pushed her fingers in. At the same time, she pressed her thumb against the hard bud at the top of Nero's folds, making the Roman groan with relief as she pushed herself down.

It lasted only a few moments before, to her distress, the fingers pulled out of her entirely and left her bereft. A whine of protest slipped from between her lips.

There was a long silence, punctuated only by her own harsh breathing. She could feel the Celt's pulse as it ran through the body pressed down on top of her, but the other was silent as the grave. _Is she still looking at me_? Nero blinked desperately behind her blindfold, wishing she could scour Boudica's face for the merest trace of what she might be thinking. Her legs rubbed together in anxiety and more than a bit of frustrated arousal.

Boudica's laughter was a whispering wind as fingers descended upon her. They played along the crease of her inner thigh, setting everything aflame in their wake. Nero mewled and rolled her hips towards them, craving more contact. But Boudica seemed set on driving her insane, for she refused to set a steady pace. Instead her touch was an erratic dance of varying rhythm, ensuring that Nero could neither predict nor adapt. Rather than speed her towards release, it kept her circling on the edge until she was in a frenzy of tears and desire.

"Please…! Ahh, please!" she begged shamelessly, tossing her head against the pillows. The Emperor glared at her, but for once she didn't care. She was lost in the sea of sensation.

Abruptly the fingers left her again. She sobbed in disappointment, until those same digits were pressed against her lips.

"Lick them," rumbled Boudica.

"What?" The blindfold's silk slid against her eyelashes.

"The fingers I'm going to fuck you with."

There was a final cry of indignation from the Emperor, but it swiftly petered out. The idea was rapidly growing _very_ appetizing. Nero could imagine full well those deft digits working inside her, and her thighs shivered with anticipation. So it was with only a little hesitation that she closed her lips around them, gently sucking at the calloused tips.

_Ahh_, she thought as she slid her tongue along the hard edge of fingernails, _I must be dreaming_. For she could have sworn she heard a low groan of pleasure in a voice deeper than her own. A hand ran through her hair as the other pressed further into her mouth, flattening on top of her tongue. The rough skin tasted of salt and woodsmoke, but somehow this bitterness was more pleasant than the earlier taste of Boudica's lips. It tasted like hearth and forge, rather than raw resentment. So she didn't protest when the fingers closed to capture her tongue. A light tug, and Nero felt more control slipping away.

Somehow she welcomed it.

Boudica's voice sounded tight and a little curt as she drew her fingers back. "That will do," she said shakily.

Nero smiled as she let herself fall back against the sheets, sighing in anticipation. Her pride might be in tatters, but she thought it would all be worth it. So long as Boudica's gaze filled her soul as her fingers would hopefully fill her body, she would be anchored even in the fiercest of storms.

* * *

Boudica stared at her hand. The fingers were still sticky and warm, a strand of spit hanging between them. It reminded her of the nectar that had so recently coated them, when she had ruthlessly teased the blonde. That brought with it the memories of Nero's desperate mewls and gasps, and she felt her cheeks burn.

_She took them into her mouth so easily_, she thought with wonder. _Where has the pride of Rome gone_?

But come to think of it, that golden arrogance had been steadily slipping away. Now that the cloud of her anger had begun to clear, she could see that what she had taken for aloofness was vulnerability.

She looked at the blonde trembling beneath her, her skin flushed the same pink as her beloved carnations. Nero's tongue licked tentatively over her lips, and Boudica found herself tracing their path. She swallowed thickly as she felt heat pool low in her belly, and it was all she could do not to run her hands over every inch of the blonde.

_Another injustice_, she thought to herself. _Rome was supposed to fall to its knees before me. Here she lies, and yet... why do I wish to follow her down?_

Nero's breasts heaved with her ragged gasps, and Boudica was afraid she might have her answer. As she swept her gaze down, the delectable curves of her hips and thighs reinforced her suspicions. The arousal thrumming in her veins was unmistakable.

She took a long trembling breath herself. Thank the gods Nero was wearing a blindfold so she couldn't see Boudica's flushed cheeks—her face must have been as red as the blonde's torn coat. She forced her breathing to slow, taking in deep gulps of air in an effort to rebuild her composure.

"Please, Boudica," whispered Nero, squirming in her impatience. "Please."

The composure was washed away in a flood of desire. The velvety softness of that voice, and the simplicity of its plea—no flowery declarations, no distancing titles—sent her pulse racing.

Nero whimpered as she pushed herself up, arching her back desperately against the pillows. Her blonde hair trailed messily in the sheets, sending drifts of scent up to tickle Boudica's flaring nostrils. Roses undercut with the earthy musk of arousal, shameless and all the more powerful for it.

_I want to touch her_. The thought bubbled up unbidden. _I _really _want to touch her_. Not to torment her with stymied sin and aching hollows, but to enjoy every inch of the warm, breathing girl. She had been too caught up in breaking Rome to let herself appreciate what was spread before her. She stared at the delicate skin around the girl's navel, slicked with sweat.

_How soft would that skin feel, if I let myself linger there?_

Her thighs unconsciously clenched against Nero, dampening at their center. This was no longer about just breaking Nero. This was about experiencing the girl, and everything she had to offer.

"Boudica, please, I beg you," the girl beneath her mumbled. "I _need_ you."

Boudica bit her lip. _No, _she told herself harshly. _I need to keep control. I need to put Nero in her place._

Where was that place again? It was becoming difficult to think through the haze of her desire. When had her hands moved to run along the flat plane of Nero's stomach, eagerly tracing each dip and hollow?

_Control_, she gritted. It was impossible to grasp so long as Rome lay open so invitingly before her. She needed her to close her gates again, so she could take a battering ram to them and call herself satisfied. Boudica cast her thoughts out for something, anything, that would hurt the Roman. Some wicked barb that she could hurl viciously, some pain she could inflict upon Rome that would shake her from her heat.

"I see no Emperor before me," she forced a wicked edge into her voice. "All I see is a frightened little girl playing at kingship."

Her lips jerked, chasing the smile that should have come naturally. _Yes, that's it. Close yourself to me. Show me that cold aloofness that Rome always held itself with._

Nero's breath hitched in the way that Boudica thought she had wanted, but the expected triumph failed to materialize. Instead she was left clutching only her longing for the girl beneath her.

Something twitched in the shadows of Nero's face, barely visible between the blindfold and the dim lighting. Boudica leaned forward, bringing her own face closer for a better look as her arms pressed down into the mattress. She gaped in astonishment as she realized the girl was smiling. Not the proud arch of a ruler, but the fragile open-mouthed joy of someone that had been saved.

Boudica really liked that smile.

"You see it," said Nero, her voice trembling in wonder. "You see _me_."

The girl lay back fully, the tension visibly draining from her. Her limbs relaxed as her body made itself welcome to her. Boudica watched in shock, each beat of her heart pounding in her ears as she took in the sight. She had thought she wanted Rome broken at her feet, tears staining its proud face. Instead, she found a beautiful woman spread before her, begging for her touch. Wanting to be ravished. Wanting _her_.

_This is so much better_.

She glanced once more at Nero's face, but the imperious mask that had so brazenly invited her to these chambers had slipped off entirely. It was Nero smiling back at her, a girl just reaching the summer of her life.

Following the strongest impulse she'd had since she came to Chaldea, she snatched the blindfold off. Nero inhaled sharply, and a small growl slipped from Boudica as she cupped the blonde's cheeks to turn her gaze forward. Blue eyes sought jade and locked them down.

"Look at me," rasped Boudica, and felt a rush of satisfaction when Nero gave a small nod. "You belong to me_._"

Without waiting for a reply, she moved her mouth down to latch around the girl's pert mounds. She twirled her tongue hungrily around the pale pink buds, savouring each groan that echoed from above.

"Yours," gasped Nero. "Always yours. Please—ahhh!—please keep going...!"

The plea dumped oil on the fire already raging in Boudica's veins. She redoubled her assault on the girl's breasts as one hand slid down her shivering body. When her fingers edged along Nero's bare slit, they came away wet. She brought them up to her lips to taste. Salty, with just a tang of sweetness.

Nero moaned breathlessly, and Boudica promised herself she would draw out countless more like it. The press of her tongue around her lover's mounds were joined by a gentle scraping of teeth that made the other writhe underneath her. She grinned around her mouthful as her hand descended again. This time, she did not hesitate to push her fingers inside Nero's entrance.

Nero's hips jerked as she stroked at her inner walls, varying her rhythm to the tune of the girl's cries and trembles. Her thumb again found its place against the swollen bud nestled at the top of the folds, and Nero's pleas took on a ragged edge.

Almost as ragged as the desperate need building in Boudica's own core. She reluctantly released the girl's peaks so she could move back to capture Nero's thigh between her own. Her hips rocked forcefully against the smooth flesh, seeking her own satisfaction. She added another finger to the one already working inside her lover, relishing each gasp and moan.

Boudica's own breathing grew erratic as the sensations overwhelmed her. As much as the joy of joining flesh, she was filled with the ecstasy of their connection. The pleasure was forging a bond between herself and the writhing girl, pouring warmth into them both.

With all the fire blazing between them, she didn't have to wait for long. Nero crested first, one final cry before she fell shuddering and panting in Boudica's grasp. The aftershocks running through her lover's frame made her thighs jerk enough to send the Celt over the edge herself. Molten pleasure swept through her, searing her vision white-hot as she collapsed back onto the sheets.

Boudica found herself staring into that purple canopy she had so derided as she struggled to catch her breath. Where before it had shrouded her in Rome's excesses, now its silk softness made her think of warm lips and shuddering sighs.

When she thought she could breathe again, she sat up and looked down at the girl. With her tangled tresses and twitching mouth, Nero was a mess—but a beautiful one. All the more so because Boudica herself had made her look that way. With a sigh of satisfaction, she let herself settle down alongside the girl, letting her fingers play through the disheveled blonde mane.

At her touch, the girl tilted her head up, and once more their gazes met. Boudica froze at the blatant adoration in those jade eyes. Nero's mouth worked open and shut a few times before she apparently gave up in favour of snuggling up to Boudica. She wrapped her arms eagerly around the Celt's waist and nuzzled her face in the crook of her neck, murmuring happily.

_Oh no_, _no no no_. Boudica physically winced. _What did I just get myself into_?

The soft little snores coming from the blonde were not a satisfying answer.

* * *

The mead burnt as it slid down her throat, but it didn't wash away the memory or the desire. It had been half a day and she still couldn't drown out the vision of pink lips and trembling thighs. It had already been difficult enough to extract herself without waking Nero, she didn't need the woman plaguing her every waking moment.

"Damn it!" She slammed the cup onto the table and ruefully considered the bottles overflowing her recycling bin. At times at this, she bitterly resented the spiritual nature of their bodies, which disarmed alcohol as quickly as it hit her lips. "What am I going to do?"

_What can I possibly say when I see her again? _She massaged her aching temples, taking another swig from the bottle. _Maybe if I pretend nothing happened, she'll have the decency to do the same—_

As if her thoughts were a catalyst for an impromptu summoning, the door crumpled from an overwhelming force. She stared in shock as a figure clad in white strode through. All coherent thought slipped away as her eyes roamed over an outfit that resembled a wedding dress designed to drive one's mate wild. The flowing translucent train accentuated the white corset, provocatively equipped with a zipper running from her generous breasts to the silver buckle that hid her womanhood. She took in creamy thighs that still bore the faint marks of her teeth and nails, before she finally managed to snap her gaze up to meet jade eyes once more.

There was a knowing gleam in them, and the smirk could not be more smug.

"Umu! I've come for you, my husband!" Nero declared.

Boudica spat all over the table.

* * *

This was a collaboration between myself and **TungstenCat**, and though she did most of the work, she gave me the pleasure of publishing it as I was the one who spitefully came up with the idea from the Garden of Sinners event. Here is what she has to say:

"Septem glides over the bad blood between these characters, and Garden of Sinners infuriatingly teased at it. I feel we brought it to its natural conclusion... or at least, the only conclusion I could reach, as I am shipping trash."

Please ignore her self-deprecation, as she painstakingly prompted every line when I failed to find the right words. I am eternally thankful to her. I would also like to thank **Exstarsis** and **Kat-2V** for looking over and editing the story when they had the time.

Your ending theme is _Crawl Outta Love_ by **Illenium**, remixed by **The Glitch Mob**.

As always, thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

"Good grief," said the red Archer as he wiped down a glass cup, staring out into the raucous activity of the cafeteria. "We're going to have another mess on our hands, aren't we?"

Ritsuka groaned in agreement, watching as Nightingale continued her attempts to manhandle Osakabehime.

"Your skin is dangerously pale, indicating vitamin deficiency," the Angel of Crimea stated, "and your antisocial behavior will lead to isolation-related depression and anxiety. You are in need of treatment."

"No, no!" The Assassin was crawling under tables, squeaking every time Nightingale's gloves came close to grabbing her. "Murimpossible! I'm a Servant, I can hunker down in my room and have as much taiyaki and crappy ramen as I want! You can't make me—EEK!"

Ritsuka winced as the nurse pulled Osakabehime out from underneath a table by her ankle, dragging her across the steel floor. She had made sure to always cooperate with the Berserker whenever she was on the prowl for patients, and it kept them on good terms. So far she had received only a single stern scolding, and she aimed to keep it that way.

The sound of the kitchen door being opened drew her attention away from the scuffle, and she turned to see who had entered.

"Wha—Nero?"

The Emperor of Roses had always dressed to emphasize her beauty, but this... there were so many zippers... and chains... and were those _hickeys_ on her neck?

_Holy hell_, thought the Chaldean Master, _it just got _very _hot in here._

"Umu!" the Saber affirmed, throwing a brilliant smile her way. "A good day to you, Master! While I am, as always, overjoyed to see you, I fear I cannot dally with you today."

She boldly strode over to the double-wide refrigerator, throwing it open as she might Rome's treasure vaults. Instead of gold and jewels, the Saber filled her arms with whipped cream and a whole basket of strawberries.

EMIYA raised a disapproving eyebrow. "I won't have you rampaging through my stores like a wild beast. You'd better put everything back in order once you're done."

"Sorry, sorry!" said Nero, though she didn't so much as glance his way. "But time is verily of the essence, umu!" Dessert apparently was joined by lunch, and possibly breakfast too, as cold cuts, lettuce, and three apples joined her rapidly expanding haul.

The scene was surreal, all the more so for the way the bright red fruit accentuated the flowing white cloth of Nero's outfit. Ritsuka might have called it a wedding dress, if not for the provocative cut of… well, everything.

_Some kind of role-play, maybe_, she thought nervously to herself, unable to tear her eyes from the graceful curve of the Emperor's back as she rummaged eagerly among the shelves. _Don't pry, Ritsuka, don't pry_.

But curiosity won out, as it so often did. It would surely kill her one of these days. For the moment, it only brought gleaming jade eyes to rest on her as she cleared her throat. "That's, ah… that's a new look for you, isn't it?"

Nero positively beamed at her. "Umu! Marriage brings with it a full assortment of changes, and I feel my wardrobe had to be one of them!" She performed a small twirl for the magus' benefit, the white train whirling around her shapely legs, and did not drop a single berry.

Ritsuka nodded in admiration, both at the dress' elegance and the natural grace of its owner. "Yeah, it really d—" she said, before the blonde's words sunk in. "Wait, what?" She stared up into a smile that was rapidly growing. "Go back a second. You got married?"

The unconquered sun was a mere candle compared to the joy that radiated from Nero's face at the word. "Yes! The bells of matrimony have rung their blessed melody upon us!" The refrigerator door hung wide open behind her, as forgotten as the red Archer's muttered admonishments. "Ah, but we are in the midst of our honeymoon. My apologies, Master, but I cannot keep my love waiting. I must abscond back to our love nest with all haste!"

"Oh." Ritsuka swallowed hard against the heat rising in her cheeks, as the sheer force of the blonde's enthusiasm strummed her like a lyre. "Yeah, okay. Good for you!" She hesitated, then propriety once again took a back seat to her burning need to know. " If you don't mind me asking, who's the lucky spouse?"

Impossibly, Nero's smile seemed to widen the tiniest fraction more. "How kind of you to ask, Master! I'm happily married to my dearest husband, Boudica!"

"That's great!" smiled Ritsuka encouragingly, before the sheer impossibility of what she was hearing finally hit her. _For a moment, it sounded like she said_… she shook her head. _No, Boudica hates her. She would never agree to that. I must have misheard._

She smiled apologetically at the beaming blonde. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Who did you get married to?"

"Umu! Worry not, I'll say it as many times as you like."

Nero carelessly deposited the food on a nearby countertop, before taking a deep breath. Then she bellowed, in a voice loud enough to shake Chaldea to its foundations, "I AM HAPPILY MARRIED TO MY DEAREST HUSBAND, BOUDICA!"

Dead silence greeted her declaration, as much from the kitchen as from the crowded cafeteria on the other side of the serving window. Dozens of faces turned towards them, Servant and human alike, in various states of shock.

There was a slow clapping, which gradually picked up speed. "Congratulations!" cheered Astolfo, raising his glass of chocolate milk high into the air.

Nobody else moved, their gazes fixed on Risuka and the woman grinning at her side with hands proudly set on her hips. They were silently awaiting some kind of explanation, or failing that, reassurance that the world had not once again gone mad.

Heavy footfalls echoed in the hallway outside, accompanied by a flash of fiery red hair as Boudica stomped into the kitchen. Nero's eyes lit up as she approached, despite the firm line of the other woman's mouth.

"Why hello, darling!" she purred in delight. "I was just telling Master about our—"

She squealed happily as Boudica grabbed her around the waist and, in one smooth motion, flung her over her shoulder.

The Celt's eyes held a proud spark as she nodded towards the magus. "Apologies, Master. I have to go tame my wife now."

Without waiting for a response, she disappeared back into the corridors. Draped comfortably over the Celt's back, Nero's lips wore the smirk of a cat that had caught a particularly plump canary.

"Hmph," said a masculine voice behind Ritsuka. She turned to see the pensive expression on EMIYA's face slowly morph into a small smile. "I suppose that I will be picking up her slack in the kitchen for a little while. How troublesome."

Ritsuka continued to find herself speechless. Her eyes strayed back the door through which her two Servants had left. Two _newlywed_ Servants.

_Thank goodness the rooms are soundproofed._

* * *

The afternoon sun blazed down on Boudica, heating every inch of skin left exposed by her swimsuit and the thin shirt draped loosely over her shoulders. She sighed in contentment as she leaned back in her beach chair, lightly stirring the excessively fruity drink at her side. The bright blue cocktail was much sweeter than she was used to, but that was alright. Nero had been the one to press it insistently into her hand, and she was pretty sure the true message was conveyed by the pink hibiscus prominently perched among the crushed ice and pineapple rings at the top of the glass.

_In the language of flowers, the hibiscus sings praises to feminine glory. _Da Vinci's book, presented to her as a wedding gift by the winking Caster, had been very clear on the point. _A token of love meant for the perfect wife. _

She felt a touch of red glow in her cheeks as she admired the bloom. The bright colours spoke as loudly as her wife's impassioned declaration in Chaldea's cafeteria, not two weeks ago. It was so incredibly cheesy, so embarrassing in its unabashed affection. _So very Nero_, she thought with a fond smile.

Cheerful voices drifted over to her, bright and clear over the roar of the surf.

"Watch this! Báthory Erzsébet Spike!"

A challenge like a ringing bell, followed by a cry of defiance.

"My sword of victory shall not allow it! Excalibur Vivian!"

Boudica looked across the rolling green waves to where a group of Servants were playing a very loose interpretation of volleyball in the shallows. Artoria looked as determined as ever in her monochrome one-piece swimsuit, her mouth set in a grim line as she drove down the ball in a vicious overhand serve. Astolfo easily returned it, wearing a smile as cheerful as the frilly pink number that hugged his hips. It really had no business looking so good on a man. Nearby, Liz impatiently waited for her chance at the ball in a bikini so abbreviated, it was only defeated by Nero's.

Boudica would know. She had spent most of the afternoon staring at it, admiring the way the sheer white-and-red-striped material emphasized rather than hid the curves of her wife's gorgeous body. She very much looked forward to stripping it off her tonight.

As usual, Nero seemed to have a sixth sense for when her husband's gaze was roaming over her. She turned around and waved cheerfully from the water.

"Enjoy the show, darling~!" Nero called out. "Engrave the image of my victory in your mind so we can bask in that glow together!"

Despite the confidence of the words, Boudica could easily hear the plea running just under their surface. _Watch me, admire me, hold me to you_. There was real joy in the curve of Nero's smile, but it was also a deliberate attempt to charm. She had learnt to burnish herself until she shone like the sun, the better to capture the audience she craved. Their recent and welcome closeness had not changed that. The difference was that instead of diffusing her rays to cover her entire public, now she focused the beams solely on Boudica.

That was fine with the Celt, even if her wife's demands for attention could grow exhausting at times. Everything that Nero demanded of her, she returned tenfold in devotion and companionship. And for the first time since she had arrived at Chaldea, Boudica didn't feel lonely anymore.

She waved back and took a big swallow from the drink her wife had made for her. The syrupy sweetness on her tongue was worth the radiant smile it put on Nero's face. They might have stayed there for others, lost in each other's eyes, if Liz had not taken the opportunity to launch a sneak attack on her distracted rival. The ball hit Nero squarely between the eyes. She blinked in stunned surprise, before snatching it up from the water.

"Hah! A call to battle, is it?" she cried as she drew her arm back. "Then, with passion and grace~!"

The battle on the waves was rejoined, more fiercely than ever. Boudica couldn't tear her eyes from Nero as she threw herself into the surf, sending up sprays of sea water all around her. As mouth-watering as the bikini was, the white mist framing her wife's figure reminded the Celt of an entirely different outfit. She would never forget the first time she had been confronted with _that dress_.

* * *

Boudica bit her lip as she kept eyes locked on Nero's face. She was fighting a losing battle to keep them from straying down towards the wonderful cleavage so tantalizingly framed by that bodice. From the smirk playing on those full lips, it was clear Nero understood perfectly.

"Your _what_?" she sputtered, wiping the mead from her chin.

Nero tilted her head. "My husband, of course." There was a brief flash of hesitation in those jade eyes, before they hardened in certainty. "Did we not exchange vows last night? You have pledged yourself to me, as I have myself to you."

Boudica recoiled, staggering to her feet to keep some distance from the advancing blonde. Chair and bottle alike clattered to the floor. "Wait, we didn't… I never agreed to that!"

Nero paused in her advance, but all doubt had vanished from her gaze. All that was left was the serenity of a flower that had patiently endured the winter, and now bloomed into spring.

"We did not need words, when the passion of our bodies spoke for us." She beamed as she put her hands on her hips. "Umu! Venus herself smiled down upon our union."

The Celt opened her mouth to protest that last night had been just sex, but that sounded ridiculous even to herself. Yes, her cheeks still burned from the memory of their bodies pressed together, the warm smooth skin of Nero's thighs. But that had paled against the blonde's whispering sighs when she had found apparent salvation in Boudica's arms.

Lust had swept her away into entirely uncharted territory, and now it was time to pay the piper. The gleam in Nero's eyes told her so.

_How could I ever have thought things would just go back to normal? _she thought ruefully. _I broke her, and now I have to take responsibility. There's no escaping this._

A treacherous part of her wasn't even sure she wanted to, fueled by hormones and an odd flutter in her chest that she refused to examine more closely. She let out a strangled whine as Nero approached, her hips swaying slightly with each step.

"The clock may say it is noon," said the blonde, "but I want to have our wedding night now."

Slender fingers tapped meaningfully at the golden lock around her neck. Boudica willingly let her gaze linger there. She needed it as an anchor, something that didn't get her blood flowing. Then she remembered all the love bites hidden under the white collar, the ones she had so eagerly pressed there last night, and thinking became difficult again.

With a supreme effort, she willed her trembling fingers to trace the lock instead of all the creamy skin just below it. "What's with this?" she managed.

"Every lock has a key," purred Nero, mischief sparking in green eyes. She rested a finger under her chin, pursing her lips. "I wonder where it could be..?"

A teasing splay of fingers along her hips made it only too obvious where she expected Boudica to look. The redhead abandoned the last shreds of self-control as she followed them, watching the sinuous motion of gloved fingers on flesh.

Flesh marred by scores of scratch marks, angry red against the pale skin. Now that she was allowing herself to really look, it was impossible to miss them. _Those look painful_, she thought, then guilt caught her heart in a vice and twisted, hard. _I did that_. Her breathing became jagged, but she could not look away. _I hurt her_. _And I _meant _to._

She had wounded Nero when the girl had been at her most vulnerable, naked and shivering beneath her. Abused her, to slack her thirsts for flesh and vengeance.

She staggered against the table, gripping the edge in both hands as she struggled to steady herself. Nero said nothing, only watched with an unreadable expression as Boudica stared helplessly back at her.

The worst part, the thing that made her want to vomit up a sea of bile to drown herself in, was that Boudica still wanted her. The scarlet of her arousal wasn't dimmed in the slightest, even as it was joined by choking black guilt. That she could still want to throw Nero down on the bed and _take her_, even after seeing her crimes marked on the blonde's skin…

She was a beast. The most depraved of beasts.

She startled when gloved hands slid against her own, with the softness of silk. Nero gently guided them upwards, until Boudica's fingers rested on the zipper tag of the white corset.

Boudica found herself swivelling around to face the girl, mouth desert-dry. The blonde nodded, smiling at her encouragingly. She wanted to believe in the curve of that smile, even if it had to be a lie.

Her fingers had pulled the zipper down several inches before she caught herself. She forced her hand away, her throat constricting with shame and self-loathing.

"No," she muttered. "I can't do this."

Nero found her hand again, leaned down to press a gentle kiss against her knuckles. Lips that had once felt so wonderful taken with her own now burned with cold fire on her skin.

"Darling," she soothed, "It's alright—"

"No!" said Boudica, yanking her hand away with more force than she had intended. The flash of hurt in the blonde's eyes was another dagger stabbed into her raw heart. How could Nero still look at her like that, refer to her so affectionately, after everything Boudica had done to her?

She took a deep breath, her fingers digging hard into the wood. "No," she repeated shakily. "You don't understand, Nero. I hurt you. Worse, I _enjoyed _hurting you. Because you were Rome."

Her gaze retreated from that open face, to linger on the bottles piled high on the table. She could not look Nero in the eye. "It took… oh gods, I'm not even sure what it took. But I understand now. You're Nero Claudius. Heroic spirit or human, you're a person."

That had been so easy to overlook, when Nero's arrogant mask had taken the form of Rome's spears and banners in her mind. With the clarity of distance, she could see underneath that mask now, a little bit. The fugues that had carried Nero away during their… their _session_, she thought with a shudder… had not been dismissive aloofness, but vulnerability. Tears stung in the corners of her eyes.

"A person who's been hurt," she finally forced through cracked lips. "And I hurt you more. What I did was unforgiv—"

"That's not important to me," interrupted Nero. Her voice was soft, but the ring of steel underneath was unmistakable.

Boudica snapped her head around to stare at her. "What?" she said as she searched Nero's face for an answer she couldn't hope to piece together herself.

There was no charming smile on the blonde's face, no facade of imperial grace. Only a deep frown, and something molten in the jade of her eyes. It frightened Boudica, even as it set her heart fluttering wildly in her breast. "What did you say?"

"I don't care about any of that," repeated Nero. "I just want you."

Boudica shook her head with almost savage force. "How could you?" she said despairingly. "How can you even bear to look at me? I forced this on you. I—"

She flinched as guilt crashed down on her again, so fiercely it might sweep her away. _I did exactly what I always cursed Rome for. I… I… _

Gentle hands closed around hers again, rubbing lovingly against her calloused fingers. Boudica's breath hitched, but she didn't resist as Nero again guided her along her body. This time their joined hands stopped along the lower hem of the corset, where white cloth met the pale skin of the Roman's inner thigh.

Warm fingers stroked hers once more before pushing them gently but firmly under the material. Boudica gave a small jolt when she closed her digits around a small metal object. She didn't need to see it to know it was a key.

When she pulled it out, Nero tenderly closed the redhead's fingers around it.

"When one mines precious stones," said the Roman softly, a whisper in the stillness between them, "they do not emerge in their full beauty. They are rough, misshapen things, and one must take a chisel to them—harm them—to help them shine with their true splendor."

Boudica shivered as she met Nero's eyes, but did not look away. She couldn't have, not if all the hosts of the Mage King came hammering on her door. She could lose herself in that cool jade, for she finally understood the spark that had so discomforted her earlier. _Trust_, she realized, and wondered at it.

"The pain you gave me came from a place of vengeance, yes, but it..." Nero hesitated, her gaze leaving Boudica's for the first time since she had entered the room, before returning to hold her. "There are... things I will tell you about in the future. I do not wish to speak of them now, but there were circumstances that I had to... heal from."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping in an ungraceful motion that clashed with the elegance of her dress. "Except, like a broken bone healing without a splint, I knitted together wrong. You had to break me again so I could heal properly, Boudica. No, thanks to you, I am together once more. As I always should have been."

Nero moved their hands again, bringing them to rest against the lock at her neck. Distantly, Boudica realized she still had the key clutched in her fingers.

"Before, I had been unattuned, a lens that scattered light rather than focused it. Now, I have a focus. I am yours and only yours."

She lifted the train from her shoulders, baring her neck to Boudica in a silent invitation. Still the Celt hesitated, painful scratches in her mind's eye and broken pleas echoing in her ears as her fingers trembled around the key. Nero watched for a few frantic beats of Boudica's heart, before leaning forward so that their faces almost touched. Their breathes intermingled, a sweet fragrance filling her nose.

"I trust you," whispered Nero before pulling back just the slightest distance.

_It's not fair_, thought Boudica thickly as she slid the key into the lock, slowly and with reverence. _How can I possibly say no after she goes and says something like that_?

The lock fell to the ground. The rest of their clothing followed soon after.

* * *

Boudica had to stop herself from rubbing her legs together, remembering all the vigorous activity that had ensued, and when was Nero going to come out and join her anyway? She was happy to see her wife enjoying herself with her friends, but the thrumming in her blood was wearing at her self-control.

She was seriously considering wading out into the water to collect her wife, when she heard the soft crunch of footsteps on the sand behind her. Warriors instincts' flared inside her, tensing her fist as she rose in her seat to face the intruder. Then she recognized the long flowing hair and serene smile of Raikou, and let herself relax.

"Good day to you, Boudica," said Raikou with a nod.

"Same to you, Raikou." Boudica smiled as she shifted in her seat to face the other woman, giving her a once over. "You certainly look set to enjoy the beach." Then she furrowed her brow as she glanced towards the other's hip. "But is that really necessary?"

The lavender bikini and pink stole floating along Raikou's athletic shoulders caught her eye, but not as much as the katana hanging from the crimson sword belt wrapped around her toned waist.

"Fufufu, a member of the Disciplinary Committee must always be prepared. Whether enemies or bad examples, I shall keep Master safe from all of them."

There was a sliver of madness dancing in those lavender eyes, but Boudica wasn't too worried. For all the fierceness in her smile, Raikou's definition of decency allowed for a surprising amount of leeway. She would have been a hypocrite otherwise, given the vast expanse of skin displayed by her swimwear.

They looked towards the shallows, where the game looked to have broken up. The ball bobbed on the surface of the waves, entirely forgotten as the players crowded around something in the sand.

"You do need to keep an eye on kids," said Boudica as she watched Liz bend down to fetch a stick. "They get so quickly out of hand."

Moments later, a shriek cut through the air as the dragon-girl jerked to her feet. She swung her arm wildly in the air, trying to dislodge the large crab clamped on her thumb.

"Quite so," said Raikou. "Our fellow Servants may be warriors, but they have the hearts of maidens. They cannot understand the burden that mothers always carry on our shoulders." She gave Boudica her warmest smile. "I am glad you are here to share it."

Boudica nodded back, and they fell into a comfortable silence. _Mothers, huh_, she mused as she idly played with the tassle of her shirt. Perhaps that was why she had always felt close to Raikou, despite the ominous embers she could sense smoking beneath the other's doting demeanour. Berserker or not, she shared her instinct to nurture and protect, even if Raikou sometimes seemed a touch theatrical in her affections.

_Speaking of affections… _

"Where is Master, anyway?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrow. "I'm surprised you aren't with her."

"Fufufu, are you worried I've lost track of my child? She's over there, sneaking sake from Jing Ke's flask."

Raikou pointed conspiratorially down the beach. Sure enough, Boudica could just pick out the very tip of the magus' rebel hair protruding over the top of a rock formation. _So much for stealth_, she thought with a snort before looking questioningly back at the Berserker.

"A wise mother knows when to turn a blind eye to her child's… experiments," said Raikou serenely. "Everyone, from time to time, needs to let their hair down."

"Is that what you're calling it now?" Boudica gave her a lopsided grin. "You know that whichever Servant she dallies with, she's not about to give you grandchildren."

Raikou only laughed, light as the breeze rippling in her hair. "As much as I would enjoy bouncing one on my knee, that is not the only reason to seek love." She fixed Boudica with a sly look. "I believe you have rediscovered that for yourself, haven't you?"

She felt a touch of heat blossom in her cheeks, but she nodded anyway. She wasn't a young girl anymore, and she saw no need to be coy about her feelings. "Yes. I had forgotten what it felt like. To come home to someone, I mean." She found herself shifting awkwardly in her seat. "I know what it must look like, and it's not what I would have expected—gods, it's not what _anyone _would have expected."

She loosed a small ripple of laughter, to drown out the lingering guilt in her gut. To her relief, Raikou laughed along with her, a rich sound that poured like warm water to undo the tension that had been building in her frame.

"But really," she said after a moment, "Nero is great." She smiled in fond exasperation. "Even if she does need a firm hand to ground her."

"Companionship is a rare thing, both on and off the battlefield. I am glad that you have found yours."

"Yeah," said Boudica as she picked up her glass, its surface slippery with condensation. The water droplets were pleasantly cool on her fingers as she turned the drink this way and that, admiring the care that had been put into it. "I'm a very lucky woman."

Again the silence descended on them, broken up by the cries of sea birds and the distant bickering of their friends. She looked over her glass at Raikou, before tapping lightly on the side.

"Hey. This may be presumptuous of me, but… well, I hope you find the same happiness."

Raikou smiled as placidly as ever, but Boudica had come to know her friend better than most. For a moment, she could swear she saw something sharp in that curl of lips.

"I do alright for myself," said the Berserker, her eyes a dark violet as they found Boudica's eyes and held them. A whisper of breath passed, and with it the merest shiver down the Celt's spine. Then Raikou looked away towards the clamoring voices, and the moment passed. She was Chaldea's self-appointed mother again, fondly watching over her chicks as they tumbled in the surf.

Boudica's brow furrowed, but she didn't have long to ponder her friend's odder quirks as Nero came running up the beach towards her, still dripping water from the waves.

"Darling!" she chirped as she approached, her small pants lending a delightful staccato to her words. " Is it not a glorious day?" She slowed her advance, the better to sweep her arm dramatically towards the ocean. "Umu! Neptune himself saw our happiness and brought us the very kiss of summer!"

Boudica sighed. "Or just maybe, Da Vinci made sure she picked a nice beach for our vacation—"

Then Nero dropped herself happily in Boudica's lap, sopping water wherever their bodies made contact. Boudica made a small grunt of protest, but she didn't really mind. It was a small price to pay for finally having her wife in her arms again. She buried her nose in Nero's hair, taking in the familiar scent of sun and roses underneath the heavy salt tang.

She might have heard a titter from Raikou, although it sounded very distant. "I'll leave you lovebirds to it, then. Remember, nothing _too _shameless."

Boudica nodded absently as she squeezed the blonde a little more tightly, earning herself a delighted purr. She loved having Nero in her arms like this. Not just because the blonde was almost criminally sexy, but also for the closeness it brought her, the sense of _connection_.

Despite the promise on their wedding night, Nero had remained close-lipped about her past circumstances. She seemed to prefer forgetting them in Boudica's embrace, and that was fine for now, though the abscess would need to be lanced sooner or later. But Boudica did not need to fully understand the cracks in her foundation to recognize that above all, Nero had been lonely.

_Broken, damaged, lonely. Gods, we really are made for each other._

Because despite her best intentions, Boudica had found herself building a wall between herself and her companions in Chaldea. Oh, she managed friends easily enough, lured by her cheerful smile and comforting dishes. But when the day's labours were done, and her Master safely tucked into bed - her own, or one of her various paramours - she slunk away to her room in spite of countless invitations. There, she would pour the first of many cups of mead, hoping to drown out the visions (_memories) _that inevitably assailed her.

It was _stupid_, she knew it was. She was hardly the only warrior with a painful past clouding her dreams. But she hated to let anyone see her like that. She hated to let _Master_ see her like that, her noble Master who already bore the weight of the world on her shoulders.

So she built her wall brick by brick, as refusals piled up on each other until they formed an intangible barrier between herself and her comrades. And if it was lonely there, it was also safe.

Then she had broken Nero, and that barrier had come falling down. No, it had been relentlessly smashed by the Roman and her demand, her raw _need _for the Celt. Every time Boudica tried to shoo her away, she came back twice as insistently. No evening was complete without Nero inviting herself into her quarters, her arms, her life.

It was almost shameful, how quickly Boudica had given in. But then, she had been offered the most enticing of bribes. Not just a sexy blonde, but a companion with which to bury her sorrows.

Sexy was a definite perk, though. It was all Boudica could do not to slide her hands up the blonde's sides to hook that bikini off, regardless of public morals. And Nero, _damn her_, knew exactly the effect she was having. It was clear from the glint in her eye and the curve of her lips as she leaned back in Boudica's grip at just the right angle to put her cleavage under the Celt's nose.

_She's going to be the death of me_, she sighed, though not without affection. Then she smiled in amusement as she ran her hands along the blonde's thighs.

"You just love to make girls wet, don't you?"

"Not just any girl," smirked Nero. "Only you, darling."

Boudica had to choke back laughter, even as a flush spread to her cheeks. "Don't you ever get embarrassed, saying things like that?"

"Umu! Why should I be embarrassed, when it's all true?"

The flush deepend, until she thought her cheeks might be aflame. Such over-the-top declarations, but she didn't mind them from Nero. With every passing day, they became more confident, rather than curtains draped over the plea still lurking in her eyes. _Say you feel the same way. Say you'll never leave me_.

Boudica sighed and ran a hand fondly through hair still tangled from the sea, letting her touch speak for her. She knew the message was understood when Nero purred and leaned into it. That simple touch soon became something more heated, as the blonde moved up until she was draped all over her husband. The Celt's blood quickened as those wonderful thighs slid against her own, and generous breasts pressed insistently against her thin blouse.

_That vixen_, she growled inwardly to herself. _She knows exactly what she's doing_. Tempting as it was to take her, right there in the chair, Boudica wasn't an exibitionist. There was a time and place for such affections. Not to mention the discipline that Nero was so blatantly inviting.

Nero leaned in to whisper in her ear. ""You're looking a little flushed, darling. Perhaps we should spend some time in the shade?"

"That's an excellent idea, and I know just the right shade," said Boudica, leaning in turn to dance her lips against Nero's jawline, enjoying the shivering she elicited. "My shadow, covering you as I make you scream."

Nero's eyes widened the merest fraction, her arms momentarily loosening their grip around the redhead's shoulders. Boudica took advantage to rise to her feet, sweeping the blonde into a bridal carry. The delighted squeak in her ear only threw more fuel on the fire raging within her.

Spurred on by instinct more than coherent thought, Boudica ate up the cobbled steps to the beachside cottage with long strides. She didn't care if her claim on it had gone uncontested for reasons of goodwill rather than fear. Right now she needed some privacy while she fucked her wife so hard the woman wouldn't be walking straight for days to come.

"Ahh, darling," purred the blonde in her arms. "Truly a grand theater for our love! For what can scarlet banners and golden gates compare to the flame in our hearts?"

"Worry less about your heart, and more about those thighs of yours," said Boudica in a low tone as she brought them across the threshold. She didn't mind the giggle that drifted up in response. Nero would be paying for all that and more, very soon.

The shade inside the house was pleasantly cool after the scorching heat of the sun outside. Nero looked eagerly towards the bedroom door, but Boudica shook her head and carried her bodily into the bathroom. Now that they were alone, the right frame of mind had to be set. That, and Boudica's inner housekeeper refused to have that much sea salt anywhere near her sheets.

"Darling, while I love seeing you in the bath, I was hoping—" began Nero with just a touch of petulance, before Boudica firmly pressed a finger against her lips.

"Hush. I'm going to clean you up," she said, before placing her down on the blue tiles of the shower. She held on a shade too long, her hands lingering on shapely hips, before she finally gave Nero a little push into the stall.

"But—"

"Be a good girl, and I'll take care of you. _All _of you," said Boudica in her sultriest tone, the one that never failed to make her wife melt. It certainly worked now, Nero sighing in happy anticipation as Boudica nudged her fully behind the shower curtains.

_Damn_. Even hidden behind semi-translucent plastic, Nero's perfectly formed curves were to die for. Boudica bit her lip hard against the arousal pricking under her skin as she turned away from temptation, towards the drawers of the vanity. She needed to keep some control if she hoped to properly satisfy her wife. Nero had needs beyond the purely physical, and it was Boudica's duty as her husband to meet them.

The sigh behind the curtains became a shuffle of feet, and then a whine as Boudica rummaged through the drawers.

"Darling~?" The succinct statement served as an invitation, but Nero's natural charm couldn't hide the naked need beneath.

_Good_, thought Boudica to herself as her fingers finally closed around cool metal. _Very good. Anticipation makes everything so much sweeter_.

"You want me there too?" she said with affected carelessness as she took out the thin golden chain, dangling it between her fingers. "Then say it like you mean it. Beg me with those pretty lips."

"Please, darling," Nero didn't hesitate for even a second. "Please, I need you."

Boudica shivered at the unabashed yearning in her wife's voice, her hand clenching around the chain. _You broke her,_ she reminded herself. _You made yourself her whole world. Now you have to take care of her_.

It should have felt like a burden, and perhaps it was at times. But it was also a gift, Boudica reflected as she looked down at her hands. Despite all their scars and calluses, she wanted to believe they were still helping hands, mother's hands that shaped and nurtured. With each crack she managed to smooth over in Nero's ruined marble, she knew herself vindicated.

"Such a greedy woman," she murmured, unsure of whether she was talking about Nero or herself. "Then don't move."

The chain dangled from her fingers as she turned back towards her waiting wife. It was a bit cruder than she would have liked, several links fused together and the clasp unbalanced. The honest ironwork of the forge had not prepared her for the intricacies of goldsmithing. She had almost been too embarrassed to present the finished article to the Emperor of Rome, who in life had been surrounded by riches. But Nero had only beamed at her, giving her the courage to twine it around their interlaced hands.

The blonde was giving her that same delighted smile now, leaning forward to eagerly present her neck.

"I told you not to move," chided Boudica. Nero reluctantly pulled back, bouncing on the tips of her toes as the redhead took her time winding the chain around that tender throat. One loop, two, as she let her fingers linger on the delicate warm skin. Then she wrapped the end loosely around her fingers, giving it a small tug before smiling.

"Good," says Boudica approvingly. "Let's get you washed off, then."

She reached over to grab the portable shower head and pulled the lever, letting the water run down her hand until it was a suitably warm temperature. The echoing sound of rain did little to drown out the eager pounding of her heart as she crooked her fingers.

"Come here."

It was half an invitation and half a command. Nero came as bidden, but not without flicking her hair over her shoulder in a way that pulled the eye towards that tempting expanse of bare shoulder. The smirk playing on the blonde's lips made it clear there was nothing accidental about it.

_Such a tease,_ thought Boudica, biting back the groan that threatened to spill from her throat. _Well, two can play that game_.

Instead of maneuvering the shower head to pour water on her wife's eager shoulders, Boudica hooked it back on the wall. Nero watched her with a small pout.

"Aren't you going to—"

She squealed when Boudica grabbed her by the waist, pulling her directly underneath the flow. The blonde gasped at the abrupt temperature difference, but quickly settled in, rivulets of water washing away the brine as they rolled down those appetizing curves. _Too appetizing_, and Nero had scarcely raised her head when she was surprised once more by Boudica's hands wrapping around her navel from behind.

"Perfect," said Boudica in a sultry tone, enjoying the way Nero shivered at her voice as much as her touch. "You're beautiful like this, pliant under my every touch."

Nero jerked in her grasp, her back pressing against the redhead's chest. Her hands flailed for purchase before settling on her beloved's forearms. "Ahh—! Yes, Boudica, please!" she said, a sweet susurrus just audible over the rush of rain.

Boudica took advantage to plant her lips at the crook of her wife's neck, gently sucking at the wet skin, tracing the line between the warmth of flesh and the rapidly heating metal of the chain. Nero sighed against her, sending electricity coursing down her nerves to curl her toes. Again, the Celt was sorely tempted to cut things short and drag her wife over to their bed for immediate satisfaction.

_No. _She barely suppressed a sigh of her own. _She's worth taking your time. Worth _savoring.

Instead, she reached up to trail her hands through the cascade of blonde hair plastered along the length of Nero's back. She wore it looser when she wore her swimsuit, but still not loose enough for Boudica's tastes. She found the white ribbons and yanked it free with more than a little satisfaction, quickly digging in her fingers to fully untangle the locks.

Nero gave a small giggle. "You love playing with my hair."

"Your hair, and every other part of you," said Boudica as she raised a few strands to her lips, frowning at the strong salt smell. "Because all of it is mine. Never forget that."

She reached blindly for one of the bottles as her mouth busied itself on Nero's throat again, pulling a delightful chain of gasps from the squirming blonde. She poured a liberal dose of shampoo on her hands and scrubbed the long blonde hair, enjoying watching the salty crust give way to glossy sun-coloured locks.

"Ahh, darling. That feels nice."

Boudica grinned against her neck. "Is that so?"

Without further warning, she slid her hands down Nero's sides, caressing every inch as she returned to the girl's stomach and the delicate skin she had been so thoroughly enjoying. "And how about here?"

"Mmph! Yes, please, yes…"

Another fumble among the bottles got her the body wash, and Nero's breath hitched as Boudica dabbed a cold glob of it on her abdomen. That soon dissolved into pants and gasps and as the Celt's hands massaged in slow circles, building up a sweet-smelling lather. Boudica exhaled in satisfaction as her hands glided over her wife's belly, then slowly upwards towards the swell of her breasts. Her fingers caught on the bikini top, and she paused long enough to explore the thin line between cloth and skin. A playful dip of her digits under the hem had Nero wriggling impatiently against her

She chuckled as she skimmed over Nero's chest with a feather-light touch to instead lather under Nero's armpits, relishing in the frustrated but sensual groan it pulled from the blonde's lips.

"Don't tease, please don't. I can't bear it."

The blonde's hands jerked up to cover Boudica's, attempting to tug them back towards her breasts, and she could easily imagine the needy flush on Nero's face. The vision dumped fire directly into her veins, and for a moment her fingers twitched back towards the bountiful flesh she had been lusting after all day.

Then she mastered herself again, moving her hands firmly around to capture Nero's in her grip. She briefly interlaced their fingers before lowering them back down to the girl's sides.

"No, love," she admonished in a breathy whisper. "Not until I'm good and ready."

She squeezed Nero's hand once in reassurance, smiling when she felt some of the tension leave the slender body pressed up against her own. Slowly, deliberately, she returned to lathering the blonde's bare arms and shoulders, enjoying skin made slippery with suds and hot water. The sweet fragrance of lavender hung among the clouds of steam vapour.

Little whines slipped out from Nero's trembling lips, but she held herself as best she could as Boudica worked her over with wicked precision. The redhead lingered around her weak points, enjoying every shiver and sigh she pulled from the beautiful woman in her embrace. Her lips descended to nip lightly on a creamy shoulder as she deliberately pressed into her, making sure her wife could feel the swell of the redhead's breasts against her back. Reminding Nero of her own aching points, rock-hard under the small scrap of cloth covering them.

"Please, touch me," whimpered Nero, just as breathless and desperate as she'd hoped. "Oh Boudica, please!"

A heady rush of pleasure and pride rushed through Boudica, knowing she could make her wife feel like this, and she finally relented. She tugged off the bikini top, spilling Nero's breasts into her waiting hands.

"Beautiful," she murmured into Nero's ear, admiring the sight of taut points the same colour as crushed rose petals.

Greedily she cupped the soft mounds, drawing her thumbs in slow circles across the sensitive flesh. The blonde threw up her head as she gasped, collapsing back to lean fully against her husband, secure in the knowledge that Boudica will never let her fall. Not so long ago, she might have resented it as narcissistic arrogance. Now she recognized it as trust, honest and freely given, and felt a different sort of warmth join the heat of arousal coursing through her body.

"Uhm! So eager, darling," purred Nero from her arms, and Boudica realized she was squeezing her breasts hard, pressing those wonderful mounds between her fingers.

She swallowed thickly against the haze of desire clouding her brain. _Control_, she reminded herself. _She needs to know you've got her, so she can let herself go_. If only focus wasn't so hard to come by right now. She might have slapped her cheeks if that hadn't meant letting go of her delightful handfuls. Instead she contented herself with a small pinch on rigid points that made Nero yelp in a most satisfying way.

"For you, always," she said, letting lust tint her words scarlet as she kneaded the soft flesh in her hands with more pressure, tenderly but firmly massaging the girl's chest until she was a panting mess in her arms. Nero's hips rolled back with the sensation, unconsciously pushing her barely-clothed ass against Boudica's groin and igniting a fresh wave of _want. _

The redhead swallowed hard as she forced herself to keep an unhurried pace. _She's enjoying it. Don't rush this. _She bit her lip, letting the sting ground her lust just enough to keep her focus.

_The pleasure is sweetest after a chase, _she told herself as she moved to press a kiss to Nero's temple.

The warm back pressing insistently against her own aching buds made it hard to stay standing. The temptation to grind hard into her, to seek her own satisfaction, was almost overwhelming. _No, show some damn discipline. _Her hands tightened the merest fraction on Nero's shoulders. _Finish taking care of her first._

So she took a deep breath before letting her hands wander down, tracing hips and thighs that had become familiar in recent nights. No matter how often she caressed them, they never failed to set her blood aflame. Not that she was the only one affected, judging from the ragged breaths echoing above the whisper of falling water. The golden chain around that delicate neck, _her _chain, glittered among curls of steam.

_Focus. _She grit her teeth against the trembling in her fingers as they curled around sinfully smooth hips. The scarlet ribbons that held her swimsuit in place were easily pulled away, and then Nero was gloriously naked in her arms. Her grip tightened instinctively, wringing a low cry from her wife.

"Tell me how badly you want this," rumbled Boudica in her ear, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. She needed to know she wasn't the only one to feel this explosion of lust, searing every nerve with raw desire.

Nero arched her neck back up towards her, desperation burning in heated jade. "I want this, I want you," she rasped. "Please touch me, please. I need to feel you inside me."

The sweet words rang in her ears, driving her fingers down to brush against the carefully trimmed patch of blonde curls. She latched her mouth onto Nero's shoulder again as she tenderly opened the outer folds, noting with satisfaction they were damp from more than the shower.

Nero's whole body tensed as Boudica danced her fingers against sensitive flesh, alternating between teasingly light and pleasurably rough in a way that had the blonde mewling and pleading. The skin between her teeth was heated with arousal as she worked it over, as languidly as the slow circles she pressed against the swollen bud at the top of Nero's folds. She let go just long enough to glide her lips up to the shell of Nero's ear, nipping it lightly before whispering inside.

"So wet for me. Tell me, were you thinking of me, playing with the other girls out on the beach?" She rubbed her thumb down on Nero's clit a little more firmly, making her yelp. "You were thinking about this all day, weren't you?"

"Ahh, darling," gasped Nero. "You know me so well… nngh... harder, please!"

"Good girl," said Boudica approvingly before pushing two fingers inside swollen flesh.

She thrust good and hard, curling her fingers inside Nero's inner walls as they clenched around her. The blond shuddered with pleasure, a sweet surrender that only spurred Boudica onwards. Every sound pulled from her wife's lips, from her shuddering cries to the throaty groans of her name, plucked mercilessly at the chords of her arousal until she was rocking her body against Nero's, her hips moving in time to her plunging fingers.

Distantly she registered slender fingers tangling her hair, pulling whenever their rhythm hit a particularly strong spike. Nero was looking up at her again, cheeks flushed and hair in disarray, tears pinpricking in her eyes.

"You..." she whispered, "you're real, aren't you...?"

Boudica's brow furrowed as the question registered through the thrum of her arousal. Her fingers faltered momentarily before she forced herself to move them again. She pressed a kiss to those trembling lips, and noted with dismay how desperately they caught against hers.

"Don't I feel real to you?" she murmured when they finally pulled apart. She reached up with her free hand to tug lightly on the golden chain, watching the links slide against Nero's throat. "I'm touching you, aren't I? Just the way you like it."

Nero was shaking as she pushed herself up against Boudica, at the same time her hips moved down to capture as much as she could of the hand thrusting inside her with a desperation that wasn't all physical need. One of her hands locked onto the Celt's shoulders to steady herself, while the other twisted around the loose end of the chain hanging between her heaving breasts.

"Please…" she breathed. "Please, don't leave me… don't…"

Boudica's heart constricted in her chest as _those _words shot through her ears again. The same that Nero had cried the first night they had spent together, when Boudica had briefly risen for a glass of water and found impossibly strong arms clinging to her.

"Don't worry," she murmured, running her lips tenderly through blonde hair as she drove her fingers in just a touch faster. "I won't leave you, love. I have you."

She sighed in relief as she felt the sharp tension slide from Nero's shoulders so that desire, consuming but so much healthier, could take its place. Seeking to close the distance between them as much as she could, she ground herself hard against Nero's hips as she continued thrusting.

"I'm going to…" Nero breathed out after a time, strangled words between her wanton moans. "...darling, I can't…"

"Hush. Let yourself go."

As if her words were a trigger, Nero arched backwards with a cry as she tumbled over her peak, her walls pulsing against the fingers still moving inside her. A few more strokes to help her ride out the aftershocks, then Boudica carefully turned her around to face her. When Nero almost stumbled on shaking legs, the redhead was ready to catch her weight, leaning them both back against the shower wall under water long since gone tepid.

They stayed there for a while, warm bodies pressed against each other as Nero's breathing leveled out. Boudica felt the most frustrating combination of… relief and satisfaction, that she had been able to give this to her wife, but also the insistent burn of unfulfilled desire. The press of Nero's chest as she snuggled in, nipples sliding enticingly over her own, didn't help matters. A flare of lust spiked through her again, making her core clench hard with _want_.

She shifted uncomfortably, reluctant to disturb the woman in her arms. The very sexy woman who had just come undone in her arms, her skin still covered with traces of Boudica's teeth. Before she could stop herself, she had already grabbed Nero's shoulders to pull her back the slightest distance, just far enough so she could kiss her again.

Her mouth moved hungrily against Nero's pliant lips, until they were as red as the passion burning in her veins. She slipped her tongue in, exploring every crevice of her mouth, drifting over teeth and flesh and groaning when it met her love's own. Hands tightened around her neck as Nero pushed herself upwards, bringing their lips even more tightly together.

When they reluctantly separated, gasping for breath, a thin line of saliva still connected their bruised lips. Boudica grabbed at the chain dangling between the generous breasts, wrapping it around her fist.

"Bed. Now," growled Boudica, giving the impromptu leash a small tug.

"As my husband wishes," murmured Nero as she fell easily into step beside her, wearing just the hint of a smirk.

The redhead eagerly guided her down the short hallway, trailing water on the wooden planks. The chain was thin enough to snap if her wife put even the slightest amount of strength into it, but she knew Nero would do no such thing. And indeed, the blonde padded obediently after her, a blissful smile on her face - a true smile, not the facsimile she wore in her consuming quest to be the Rome everyone expected. She did not need to be the Emperor here, leading her people with manufactured pride and confidence. She could let herself be led, and feel safe doing so.

Boudica did enjoy leading her, very much so. She craved the sense of control, and more than that, the utter trust being placed in her hands. It was a pure sexual rush, a shot of hot adrenaline straight to the spine.

When they hit the edge of the bed, Boudica wasted no time in stripping off her own swimsuit before settling herself down against the headboard. Another tug brought her wife down on top of her, limbs tangling as they kissed again. Liquid heat pooled in her belly as her hands slipped down of their own volition to touch hips, thigs, ass, every part of that smoking hot body. There was no trace of the earlier sea salt as she pressed love bites along Nero's throat and shoulders, just the subtle sweetness of skin and her natural scent.

"Mmm, yes!" moaned the blonde as she squirmed under her attentions. "More, more! Touch me more!"

The more she fondled, the more her blood burned. The ache between her thighs was growing unbearable. Why should she deny herself any longer, when she had a beautiful woman ready and willing for her?

She tugged once on the chain, drawing jade eyes to her. "I take care of what's mine," she said, her voice rough and hungry even to her own ears. "And you're mine, aren't you?"

"Always," breathed Nero, moving to settle herself over Boudica's legs. Her slit was already slick with renewed arousal, trailing heat wherever it touched the redhead's thigh. "Always yours."

Boudica nodded fiercely as she placed her hand atop Nero's head, then gently but firmly pushed her downward. "That's right," she rasped, low and carnal in her throat. "Now be a good girl and please your husband."

Nero had the audacity to purr as she eagerly lowered her face between Boudica's legs. The redhead might have chided her, but it was all she could do when blonde hair, still damp from the shower, slid against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She dropped the chain in favour of burying her hands in those silky soft tresses, wrapping them around her fingers in a loose grip.

"Go on," she said, then shuddered when she felt a hot tongue slip between her sensitive folds, laving at flesh already slick with lust. Pleasure rushed through her as it teased and lapped as deep inside as it could reach, making her toes curl on the rough cotton of the sheets.

_Damn, she's really good at this, _thought Boudica helplessly. _I should get her to do this more oft—_

All coherent thought slipped away when Nero wrapped her lips around her aching cit and _sucked, _sending a jolt of sensation through her. It felt so good it was almost painful, and she found her fists tightening reflexively in Nero's hair. It must have hurt, but the blonde only purred as she picked up her pace, working her tongue and mouth over Boudica with enthusiastic energy.

'K—Keep going," she managed between groans of pleasure, rocking her hips insistently into that talented mouth and shivering when Nero's tongue expertly circled around her bud, working it to a frenzy. Her entire body was tensing delightfully, losing itself in sheer pleasure. "Mmm, you… ahh!"

Sparks burst in her vision as release crashed over her, overwhelming her senses as she collapsed back against the pillows. As she lay panting, coming down from the white hot rush of pleasure, she felt a weight settle itself into her arms. She glanced to the side to find jade eyes considering her. There was affection in Nero's gaze, but also smugness in the corner of her smile.

Boudica felt her blood quicken at the sight. _This isn't over, not by a long shot_. Ignoring the little aftershocks still running through her frame, she pulled the blonde up into a searing kiss, tasting herself on Nero's mouth. The other woman reciprocated hungrily, losing herself as their mouths melted against each other.

The redhead took advantage of her distraction to grab her by the waist and flip her over, throwing her down on the rumpled sheets. Nero squealed in surprise as Boudica crawled on top of her, settling herself fully on top before nodding imperiously down at her.

"Not bad," she conceded, wiping some sweat from her brow. "Now try to remember what I'm about to do to you. It'll help you do better next time."

Whatever the blonde might have said, it was swallowed up when Boudica covered her mouth once more with her own, moving her lips and tongue in a way calculated to stoke the fire she could sense building underneath. She splayed her hand along the soft skin of Nero's thighs, caressing them briefly before deftly parting her folds to slide her fingers into hot, silken wetness. Her wife was so slick that there was barely any resistance as she thrust them in, curling them against the rough patch inside.

Nero groaned into her mouth as she picked up an extra bit of speed, building a punishing rhythm that had the blonde writhing underneath her. Her body shook with the force of the thrusts, breasts bouncing against the cotton sheets.

"Ahh! More, please... nggh!"

She didn't even try to hide her gasps and cries of pleasure, leaning into them instead as her hips bucked wildly against Boudica's hand, seeking ever more friction. The smirk was long gone, giving way to flushed cheeks and an open expression of pleasure.

"You like this," she whispered huskily in the blonde's ear. And that was one of the best things about fucking Nero, how easily Boudica could tell when she was pleasing her. There were no muffled denials or shamed blushes, only the raw sensuality of a woman completely comfortable in her skin.

Nero shuddered as an index finger curled against a rough patch on her inner walls, clutching at the shoulders moving above her. Fingernails raked down Boudica's back as the blonde buried her face in the crook of her neck, warm breath tickling as she whispered fevered praises against flushed skin. The sting told the redhead she would be wearing the scratches for days to come, and made her grin. Adornments imprinted in flesh to match her own marks on Nero's throat, better than any matching jewelry. Not to mention the opportunity to leave more the next time they did this.

_Next time_. Boudica savoured the words as her fingers picked up the pace, encouraged by the prospect. Nero groaned in approval, rocking her hips as she lost herself entirely to pleasure, her throat bared as she arched up against the sheets. Pride rushed through the Celt at the erotic sight below her, knowing that she reduce her wife to this panting, desperate mess. That Nero wanted her and needed her so badly, she would happily surrender herself entirely to her. It was intoxicating, addictive.

The throaty growns, the trembling of the limbs beneath her, the powerful clench of inner walls around her fingers, all told Boudica that Nero was almost at her limit.

"Please… please..." mewled the blonde, hands tightening on Boudica's shoulders in a vice grip. "I'm so close…"

"Then come for me," whispered Boudica as she cupped Nero's cheek. She leaned down just as Nero shuddered with the wave of her climax, crashing their mouths together to capture the strangled cry of release. It vibrated in their kiss, sending little jolts down nerves already wrung from passion.

One last squeeze against her shoulders, then Nero went limp in her grasp, still shaking as she rode out little waves of pleasure. Boudica pressed a kiss to her wife's flushed cheeks before gently laying her back down on the bed, watching that lovely body shake tremble as the blonde caught her breath. The hot spike of lust that had tormented her before was gone now, replaced with a glowing warmth suffusing her body down to her very bones. The lazy loving smile Nero gave her as she looked up at her through half-lidded eyes only added to it.

"That was incredible," murmured Nero, visibly relaxing as she sunk back against the pillows. Her smile was subdued and she had never looked more beautiful.

"Thank you, darling," she said softly, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the cotton sheets.

"Always." Boudica pulled her close again, whispering her lips against the tender skin at the nape of Nero's neck. She found it slick with sweat, enough to put a hint of salt in her mouth. She rumbled with laughter. "Bad news, love. You're covered in salt again."

"Mmm. How terrible," purred Nero before placing a finger under her chin in exaggerated fashion. "I guess you'll need to take me back to the shower?"

Boudica burst out laughing. "You're insatiable," she said in fond exasperation, even as she stroked a hand admiringly along her wife's thighs.

"Only for you,' said Nero, beaming at her and spilling out all the warmth she had soaked up from the summer sun. Warmth that made Boudica pull her close again, wrapping herself tightly around the blonde as she pulled a sheet over them both,

As they drifted off, still warm and a bit sticky from sex, Boudica found herself rolling the thought sleepily over in her heard. _Only for me, huh. That's… probably true. _

It was a far cry from the Emperor who wanted to be beloved by all her subjects, lost in her shell of golden confidence and scarlet passion. The Nero in her arms seemed smaller, a girl of earth and roots rather than a grand dream of blossoms. Nero Claudius as she really was, when she wasn't desperately threading golden wire through her spine to make herself stand tall.

Boudica liked her much better this way. The Emperor was an artifice, full of empty charm. It could not hold a candle to _this _Nero's companionship, the simple uncomplicated joy that lit up her eyes every time Boudica came in the door.

It was coming home. A different feeling than the kind Boudica once shared with her husband in another life, a different love, but just as warming and wonderful in its own way.

She held on to that feeling as she let herself fall into slumber.

* * *

Once more, this was written almost entirely by my friend **TungstenCat**, and as much as she wants to deflect and say "you helped me the whole time!", I was not the one putting 11,000 words on the page. Throw all of your praise towards her, for I am basically just her publisher—the result of a coin toss. Here's some more words from her:

"Many thanks to Minerva for helping me string this together, even when it came in fits and starts. Also, nobody captures Osakabehime quite like he does, in all her enthusiastic petulance."

This chapter is actually the second of three—originally we were supposed to have two but this grew immensely and needed to be split in half for the sake of pacing. We're smoothly transitioning from that Nero focus in the first chapter into a greater understanding of Boudica's character, and next chapter will have a little less smut and a little more angst. I live and die by my angst.

Your ending theme for this chapter is the classic _Bad Apple!_, remixed by **Nhato** and featuring **nomico**.

Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

A pale bleak sun cast its rays over broken spears and tattered banners as Boudica stumbled over rocks and grass still slick with gore. The iron scent of the battlefield filled her nostrils, an acrid reek of blood and fear and bodies already rotting in the humid air. It made her stomach roil and heave, but she would not let it choke her. Not until she had made a full round of the dead and dying. Not until she was sure none of her kin were still alive among the wreckage.

Sucking in breath, she paused at the edge of the lightly wooded combe and forced herself to look down among the thickets. There were at least two dozen bodies, and probably more hidden among the trampled foliage. Most were clad in the segmented metal armor of the enemy, while others wore the boiled leather cuirasses of her warriors, but all were together in the stillness of death. It hung in the air, carried in the rising stench and the hoarse cries of circling crows.

_All these lives, these brave men, sacrificed to Rome's greedy talons. _Boudica felt grief and rage claw up her throat. Once, she would have let it out in great wracking sobs, as she wept for her broken home and her desperate people. Now she swallowed it to fuel the coals in her belly, and turned back towards the smoke trailing in the distance. _Let the dead rest, and worry about the living. I've seen everything I needed here_.

Or so she thought, when a choked gurgle made her head snap around. Boudica followed it down, scrambling over loose pebbles and branches as she slid down the slope. Pushing through a thick cluster of trees at the bottom, she found herself staring down at a dead horse bearing the livery of Rome. Its once-glossy flank was dabbled in blood, its legs doubled awkwardly under its bulk. And pinned underneath…

"Galan!" cried Boudica, throwing herself to her knees next to the young warrior. He gasped for breath through bloodied lips, his hands reflexively scrabbling in a futile effort to push the beast's great weight off his legs. A heavy blow must have knocked it off its feet, and her kinsman was unlucky enough to be in its path.

He stilled when she gently touched his cheek, then turned reddened eyes towards her. Boudica's breath hitched when she saw how pale his face was under the scruffy red beard. Although she wasn't close to the man, she remembered the tow-headed boy who had eagerly followed his older sister when they played in the fields with Boudica's own daughters. Back then, she had idly wondered if he would follow his father's profession as a bowyer, or instead put those bows to use as a hunter.

_And now…_

"Oh Galan," she groaned as she sat back on her haunches, looking down at the dying man before her. For a wild moment, Boudica thought about grabbing the carcass that was crushing him, using every ounce of strength to somehow lever it off. Then she could carefully haul him up, carry him back step by step to camp—

"B… Boudica…" The voice rose, wet and thick between ragged breaths, to hook her back to reality. When his twitching fingers pawed at the earth in front of her, she gently took them in her own.

"I'm here, Galan," she said quietly. She tried to think of reassuring words, a prayer to the gods or a promise to look after his sister, but nothing came through the clenching of her heart.

To her shame, he tried to reassure _her_, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace. _He can smile like this, even on death's door_. The thought hardened her resolve and straightened her shoulders as she gripped his hand with renewed strength. She had to show him the proud leader to whom they had pledged their swords, show him that he had not sacrificed everything for a coward. She owned him this much—Galan, and all her other kin whose blood soaked the field.

"Boudica… no, my Queen," he rasped out. "Did we win…?"

"Yes," she said, "Andraste has seen us to victory."

Even though it was a pyrrhic one at best. Their blood and iron had routed the Romans and prevented them from reaching the pass, but her army was too tattered to remain here without resupplying. They would have to give up the ground so dearly won today, and it was all too likely these woods would see blood again before the snows fell.

But Boudica could afford to lie to him. A single glance at his shattered legs told her Galan would never walk again, even if she could muster the strength to free him from the dead animal trapping him. Her fantasy of dragging him to safety was just that, the sort of foolishness that a queen knew to brush away. Her army had to march, and swiftly, if they wished to regroup with the Trinovantes before nightfall.

Galan gave her hand a weak squeeze as he let himself drop fully against the rough grass at his back. "I'm glad," he sighed. "Send those dogs running… with their tails between their legs…"

"We will, I swear it," said Boudica as she discreetly worked her dagger loose from its sheath at her side. "Our brothers will not have died in vain today. We'll drive those bastards from our home and spit on every Roman milestone, all the way to Londinium."

His lips crinkled up into a smile, even as blood dripped from the corners. She smiled back with all the pride she felt for him, holding his gaze as she maneuvred her blade. A swift cut to the throat, and his suffering would be over. _This is all I can do for Galan now_.

Boudica leaned over him again, steeling herself for the blow, when Galan heaved himself upwards with a tortured grunt. She froze as his arms locked weakly around her shoulders, his beard scratching against her cheek as he feebly hugged her.

"Thank you," he said, his throat hoarse with clotted gore. "I think… I can see them now." He jerked as her arms closed around him, his body becoming lead in her grasp. "I need to go... My Queen."

She had thought her tears long since dried up, in that hall of black pine, but the salt taste on her lips as she set him down was all too familiar. She clutched at the (_cold, how was he already so cold_) man, even though she knew he was already slipping away from her. She wanted to pretend, just a moment longer, before she had to get back to searching for others. Distantly she heard the flutter of black wings and sharp caws, carrion birds calling their own kin down to feast.

Then the body suddenly shifted in her grip, wrenching itself away with sudden and terrifying strength. Instinctively Boudica grabbed on, throwing her arms around that corpse-pale neck and clutching with all her strength. As gruesome as it was, it was her only lifeline in the darkness swiftly encroaching from every side.

"Don't leave me!" she cried, dignity forgotten before the spike of fear and grief burying itself in her breast. "Please, don't leave me here alone! Galan… Prasutagas, please… everyone…"

Boudica's hold tightened as the corpse jerked in her arms again. Something cut through the air, a broken desperate wail. It was only the burning in her throat that let her recognize it as her own.

She screamed, screamed against a sky that had gone black as pitch, screamed against the crimson shadows pooling over her, drowning her—

* * *

—Boudica woke to darkness before her eyes and her heart pounding in her chest, the scream lodged in her throat. Something slippery was twisted around her limbs, sticking unpleasantly to the cold sweat bathing her body. For a terrifying moment, she felt it as ropes pinning her down to unyielding ground, ready for the enemy's blade. She couldn't help thrashing her legs against - _sheets_, she finally registered, _those are sheets _ \- even as she unconsciously tightened her hold on the warm body in her arms.

"Ow!" The body pulled away, despite the redhead's best efforts to hold on. "Boudica, that hurts!" A shuffle on the bed, then jade eyes were staring down at her, their colour washed out in the moonlight.

Boudica recoiled from that gaze, pulling the sheets with her as she reared back. Her breath caught as her hands curled into fists, ready to defend herself.

"Darling? Boudica, what's wrong?"

The woman - she could make out that much in the dim light - seemed taken aback at first. She hesitated, then reached a hand out towards Boudica. Palm up, an invitation rather than a demand.

"Shhh," she soothed. "It's okay, darling. It's just me." The voice was familiar now, a rich tone that spoke of warm lips and summer blooms.

"N… Nero?" Boudica's shoulders were shaking, but she slowly loosened her grip on the sheet. When she squinted, she could just make out a familiar mane of hair, even if it looked silvery-white instead of its usual blonde.

"That's right," said Nero, in the calm voice she used whenever her husband woke up haunted by shadows. "I'm here. _We're _here, together."

It was far more familiar than Boudica cared to admit, and again she felt the prickling of shame. She had needed reassurance from a dying man, and now here she was craving it from Nero, the woman she had broken and taken responsibility for putting back together. It felt like weakness, and the bitter taste of defeat.

She might have stubbornly turned her back on the comfort being offered, lied to both of them, if not for the hand still held out to her. The comfort of human touch, freely given. Boudica snatched at it, fingers closing in a vice grip around that wrist, feeling smooth skin and delicate bones underneath.

To Nero's credit, she didn't flinch. Instead she slowly and delicately rubbed her thumb across the back of the Celt's hand, tracing soothing circles. Her touch felt warm and solid, nothing like the shadows of her dreamscape, and Boudica felt herself relax the slightest bit.

"Another nightmare?" asked Nero with a sympathetic sigh.

"Y… yeah," she admitted, and without warning her eyes filled with tears. Once, she might have tried hiding them from the blonde as a sign of weakness. But there was no point, not when Nero had learnt to track her moods as an augur followed the stars. More than that, it was a relief to let them fall without fear.

"It was… vivid," she said at last. "More than usual, I mean."

The reek of blood still lingered in her nose, as much as the buzzing of blow-flies in her ears. If she closed her eyes, she would find herself sitting among corpses.

"I can imagine," said Nero, before giving a small giggle, one of her many tools when she wished to lighten a heavy atmosphere. "You gave me quite a scare! I might have thought you a mule, the way you kicked."

The blonde's laughter was a bit strained, but still far better than—

—_the screams of her horses, more shrill and piercing than human vocal chords could produce, as they fell under the cloud of arrows raining down from every side—_

Panic seized Boudica's heart again, squeezing it with cruel fingers. She couldn't think, she couldn't breath, only close her eyes against the pale faces floating up in the darkness.

Strong arms wrapped around her shoulders as Nero pulled her into a fierce embrace. Boudica clung to her wife, pressing herself as closely as she could. She buried her nose in golden tresses, inhaling deeply so that her wife's sweet scent might drown out the haunting stench of the battlefield.

"It's okay, it's okay," murmured Nero as she stroked her hair. "I have you."

It was warm in Nero's arms, especially when Boudica moved her face down to press into the crook of her wife's neck. She could feel the pulse running in her throat, the steady beat of a living heart. The redhead found herself counting down the beats, a soothing rhythm to anchor her breathing until she could calm down. Even better when gentle hands rubbed her back, warm against the shivering of her naked skin. A leg slipped between hers, intertwining them, even as comforting nothings were whispered in her ear.

On other nights, that would have been enough to drive away the phantom screams and roars. They would fall back asleep in each other's embrace, and sleep soundly until morning. But Boudica's eyes had scarcely fluttered shut when she could see bodies again, already rotting in the damp forest air. A crow picked at one, snatching up a bit of entrail in its slender beak.

There was a small cry of pain, she wasn't sure from which of them, as Boudica grabbed at Nero again, caressing her back and shoulders with a fierce tenderness. She needed to feel her, _needed _to touch warm skin and know that the woman was really there, wouldn't vanish like mist on the wind. That she wouldn't wake up cold and alone in her room in Chaldea, and realize that the past weeks had only been the dream of a yearning heart. _It's alright_, she told herself between deep breaths. _You're here with Nero. You're not alone_.

A shaky smile had just formed on her lips when a sharp little voice, the one she had tried to bury these past weeks, cut through the muddled haze of her emotions. _Here with _Rome, _you mean_, it said darkly. _Seeking comfort in Rome's arms. _She stiffened in the blonde's grasp.

"Boudica…?"

She barely registered the question, lost in a sudden flood of self-loathing. _Rome_, the very foe that filled her nights with screams and clanging steel. A fresh wave of disgust threatened to pull her under as she remembered her promise to Galan. _What happened to driving the dogs to Londinium? Here you are, in bed with their master._

There was a brush of hands against her face. Boudica pried them off automatically, then stared into worried green eyes. For a breath, she saw the scarlet banners again, the cruel march of soldiers' sandals down the hills of her homeland, and her fists clenched. Then she remembered the way those eyes had screwed shut, that proud head bowed in apology, only days ago.

"_My mother… guided my hand, when I first ascended to the Seat of Roses," Nero had said haltingly, as she always did when she spoke of her. "When she died… no, I must be honest… when I had her executed, I found myself floundering. I had never been allowed to truly touch matters of state before, and suddenly they were all piled before me. Among them was the question of Britain." _

_She had taken a deep breath then before continuing, her voice uncharacteristically flat. "My great uncle Claudius launched the invasion when I was six years old. Fifteen years later, I had to decide whether to send more legions to hold the new provinces, or withdraw them to Gaul. My advisors all told me to solidify our conquest. For the glory of Rome." _

_Her entire body had folded in defensively, but she had forced herself to meet Boudica's gaze. "I told them to carry on, and thought little more of it. I may not have commanded them, but I am nonetheless responsible." Face pale, voice trembling, she had jerked her head down. "Boudica… I don't expect you to ever forgive you for the crime your people suffered. I… I don't even know if apologizing helps, or if it's just another insult. But for what it's worth… I'm sorry."_

The helpless slump of Nero's shoulders, the despair in her eyes, had all screamed that she expected Boudica to leave her, and wouldn't have blamed her for it. But she had apologized anyway, risked tearing the wound irreparably open, when the Celt had expected it to forever fester silently between them. Perhaps that was why Boudica had chosen to forgive her, to live in the present, even if she would never forget the past.

_The present, _she thought, looking across to where _her _Nero sat on the bed, her brow creased in concern.

"There you are," said the blonde quietly. "I thought I had lost you again."

That was uncomfortably close to the truth. Boudica took a jagged breath, then grasped Nero's hands in her own again. "Don't worry," she said, trying for strength, "It's fine, everything is fine."

_It _is _fine_, she told herself as they embraced once more, her wife's gentle warmth keeping her grounded in the moment. _Nero may have been Emperor, but she isn't _that _Rome. Galan would understand, surely they would all—_

Eyes stared back at her, glassy with death, from a face caked in blood. _I have to go now, my Queen._

"No! No, no, I can't!" Boudica's whole body shuddered as her fingers dug into shoulders whose warmth was rapidly leaking out, leaving her with the chill of a corpse. "Please, I can't…"

Choking on grief and fear, she was half adrift in a sea of shadowed memories when a hand slid down her back, drawing small circles along her spine. Pulling shivers from her, but the _good _kind of shivers, from pleasure rather than fear. Part of Boudica felt a touch of shame, that her body could react this way in these circumstances. The rest of her desperately latched onto the sensation, leaned into each stroke and press of digits, hoping to drown out the shadows.

"Shhh, it's okay," said Nero, moving her hands down the redhead's sides, tracing warmth along cold skin. "You're here at the beach house with me. You're safe."

Boudica gave a shaky smile as she tried to relax under that touch, as gentle as rain -

—_the sky had opened on her journey back to the camp, icy spears pelting down on her back and shoulders, drenching her in water as cold as the death seeping into the earth—_

Again the Celt gave a strangled cry, and again she was pulled back by warm fingers as they danced lower, brushing along her stomach and hips before coming to rest on her thigh. Tracing fire into her skin, slowly but steadily building heat in her core. That heat crept up her back and burned in the nape of her neck, driving away the cold fog seizing her mind.

"Look at me, please," whispered Nero, and Boudica found herself gazing helplessly into those eyes, that loving smile.

Then lips descended on hers, soft and tasting of rose petals and wine. What began as a tender kiss swiftly picked up hunger, as Boudica sought to lose herself in the sweetness of Nero's mouth. Something pricked at the back of her brain, but it was increasingly difficult to focus when lust was setting her blood aflame.

They had scarcely separated to catch their breaths when Boudica pressed the attack, burying her hands in Nero's hair as she recaptured her lips in a kiss even more heated than the last. Then the blonde's hands slid lower still, teasing along the skin on the inside of her thighs, and arousal exploded into raw animal _need_.

"A-ahh, Nero..." she groaned helplessly into the other's mouth. "I need…"

"I know," said Nero quietly, "Leave everything to me."

Deft fingers gently opened her folds, exposing the trembling bud at the top before pressing against it with a firmness that made her jolt. Searing pleasure coursed through her body, the last traces of her nightmare vanishing like shadows melting away under the sun. Some stubborn part of her caught onto the last tendril of it, but warm lips firmly descended again, and she willingly let it slip away.

Boudica surrendered to that kiss, just as she lay back and surrendered when Nero's hand slid fully between her thighs, her questing fingers pushing inside to stroke and thrust. Plucking her like a violin, letting her vibrate in time with the rhythm of the plunging digits.

She wrapped her arms around the slender but powerful shoulders shifting above her, her nails impressing crescents into Nero's back. Distantly she felt a weight press against her leg. She glanced down to see the blonde settling herself fully against her thigh, Nero's own core warm and dripping wet where it touched her naked skin.

Awareness flickered through the scarlet haze of passion, and with it her sense of responsibility. _Nero's doing this for me_, she thought, and a prickle of guilt joined the lust burning in her veins. _She should feel good too. I should take care of her_.

She had barely begun to rise from the bed when Nero gently but firmly pushed her back down, never pausing the deft play of her fingers inside her.

"Let me take care of you, Please."

It was impossible to resist that earnest voice, as impossible as forgoing the delicious friction of Nero's hand working her into a frenzy. Boudica let herself fall into the sea of sensation, waves of pleasure wash over her as she was sped towards her crest. Letting someone worry about everything for once, while she lay back and let herself feel.

Now she understood why Nero provoked her so much, why the blonde was so eager to put herself under Boudica's direction. It was _freeing_, and she could already feel some of the stress leaving her body, replaced by an entirely different and far more pleasant tension. She could close her eyes and let things wash over her, let things _happen _without worry, knowing that Nero would take care of her. An absurd thought, willingly putting herself in Rome's hands, and trusting that she would come out unharmed. But at that moment, there was nowhere else she would rather be.

Boudica shamelessly rolled her hips, seeking more of that delicious friction, oblivious to everything but her own pleasure. There was nothing but this moment shared between them, heat and desire and life in every quirk of Nero's fingers inside her, every brush of lips against her forehead.

It couldn't last long, not with the intensity of the feelings flowing between them. Boudica stiffened as she crested her peak, flung on waves of bliss that left her gasping on the far shore. A moment later Nero rocked against her with a shuddering sigh, hot sticky fluids from her release coating Boudica's leg. As messy as it was, the Celt welcomed it. There was a certain sensuality in sharing every aspect of their bodies, even the messy parts. But more importantly, the wetness on her thigh was the proof that Nero had things fully under control. That she had made things good for both of them, even when Boudica was lost in the throes of selfish desire.

Entirely spent, Nero let herself tumble to the side, breathing hard. Boudica didn't move, electing to bask in the afterglow a little while longer. There was nothing she needed to do, nowhere she needed to be this patch of stillness before dawn, pressed up close against her wife.

She might have laid there forever, if not for the fingers delicately brushing her hair from her sweat-slicked brow. Boudica looked up to see jade eyes gazing tenderly down at her, a hint of anxiety in the arch of that elegant brow.

"Better now?" asked Nero.

"Yes," said Boudica, reaching for Nero's hand and intertwining their fingers. "That was just what I needed."

Relief shone in the smile that spread across Nero's lips. It lit up her whole face, a spring flower opening to its sun. She gave Boudica's hand a fond squeeze. "Anything for my dearest husband."

The redhead sighed in contentment as she reclined back against the pillows, fatigue pressing heavily down on her now that night terrors had been thoroughly vanquished. The sky was a little lighter now, but there should still be some hours of sleep before Liz came knocking at their door to show off her outfit that day. Not that Servants needed sleep, but it was still a nice—

Arms settled around her waist, reminding her that she wasn't the only one awake in the stillness. She winced as realization set in that her nightmares had again pulled Nero from sleep. Not a trivial affair, for left to her own devices, the Roman would put any housecat to shame.

"Hey, Nero?" she said as she raised a hand to caress her cheek. "I'm sorry I woke you up. Next, time, I'll try to—"

The attempted promise was swallowed up by a kiss, as the blonde pressed their mouths together again. It was light and tender, rather than the messy lustful affair from earlier, but no less effective a means of capturing her husband's undivided attention.

When they pulled back, Nero cradled Boudica's face in her hands. "You're my everything," she said. "I'm not going to ignore you when you're in pain. I won't stand by and see my sun darken, not when I can do something to help."

From anyone else, such a declaration might have sounded like overblown sentiment. In Nero's mouth, framed by the flash of her eyes and the determined set of her jaw, it took on the ring of truth. Boudica felt a surge of gratitude and affection, but try as she might, her own words kept getting caught in her throat. She struggled for a bit, then gave up and simply opened her arms.

"Then come here," she commanded, and smirked when she felt some of her confidence return.

"Ahh, darling! You always know just what to say," laughed Nero as she happily threw herself into Boudica's embrace, nuzzling the top of her head against the redhead's chin. It was very reminiscent of the lionesses that the Saber was so fond of, and not just because of the physicality of her affection. There was real power in the limbs wrapping themselves around Boudica's neck, but rather than a threat, it was a comfort. She could rest a little easier, knowing that when she stumbled, Nero would be there to catch her in turn.

_It makes sense, in a way_, she thought wryly to herself. _Rome broke me, as surely as I broke her. So Rome should have to fix it._

When they settled back down this time, Boudica's heart had finally calmed. She was sure she would be able to sleep now. Still, she kept herself tightly wrapped around her wife as she breathed in her fragrance, revelled in the steady rise and fall of her chest. Whenever the Celt had these dreams in the past, she would give up on any hope of sleep and drink mead until morning. Alone and shaking, lost in her past and dreading what tragedies the future would bring. Now, she knew that she could rest, anchored in her present and the people who needed her, and who she needed in turn.

Even if Nero _did _hog the covers. Already the Roman had managed to pull the sheet largely off Boudica to wrap it tightly around her own shoulders. The Celt might have been annoyed if the blonde did not look absolutely adorable in her sleep, her rebel hair fluttering with each murmured breath.

Boudica grinned as she pressed in closer, enjoying the pleased noise Nero made as she unconsciously leaned into her embrace. _Just means I have an excuse to snuggle in closer_.

* * *

There was a sharp tang to the marinade, even under the rich flavour of wine and sea salt. Boudica set the spoon back down with a nod of satisfaction. At first, she had been taken aback by the burning spice of the unassuming green peppers that Quetzalcoatl had cheerfully pressed into her hands. It was just as well nobody had been around to hear the flood of curses Boudica had spat when her chopping accidentally sprayed a bit of their oil in her eye. But for all that, she appreciated the heat they added to dishes.

She had just picked up her brush to apply the sweet liquid over the chicken skewers when she spotted Carmilla approaching. Her smooth stride made it seem like she was gliding over the burning sand, despite her six-inch heels. Boudica felt her hackles rise. Even if they were pledged to the same Master, she never felt comfortable around someone who had so callously killed young maidens for the sake of vanity.

Long nails clicked against the table as Carmilla silently considered the skewers laid out neatly in rows. Boudica briefly considered ignoring her in favour of focusing on her cooking, hoping the vampire might go away. Then she sighed and put down the brush. Misdirections and retreats were for Romans, certain individuals excepted. The Iceni always faced their challenges head-on.

"Did you need something?" she asked, trying to keep the dislike from her voice.

Golden eyes studied her over expensive sunglasses, before coming up to meet her gaze. "You're getting along quite well with the Emperor of Roses." She presented it as a statement of fact, though it was impossible to miss the hint of challenge underneath.

Boudica bristled. "Indeed, we are," she said curtly, then dipped her brush and applied the first coat to the meat.

A long silence followed, as Carmilla tracked every dip and movement of the Celt's handiwork. There was something unsettling about the Assassin's focus and the absolute control with which she held herself. Then the mask lifted for a moment, as her brow crinkled in puzzlement.

"There are some who would see that as a betrayal of your identity," she said without accusation. "The Queen of Victory, entirely besotted with the one that ruined her."

The brush snapped in two as Boudica inhaled sharply and rounded on her. "_Some _might be better off minding their own business," she growled. "If that's all you're here to tell me, don't let me keep you."

Infuriatingly, Carmilla made no move to leave. If anything, her frown deepened. Tension coiled in Boudica's limbs as she tried to make sense of what this meant, and whether a fight might be imminent after all.

Then the vampire sucked in a deep breath and murmured, so quietly that Boudica almost missed it, "I wish to know why."

The Rider's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" Her fingers tightened around the shard of handle still in her grasp. _What's her angle here? She's not the type to take innocent interest_.

"Nero's soldiers murdered your husband and ravaged your home. To lift her yoke, you poured out your people's sweat and blood." She paused on the last word, then looked her straight in the eye. "By all rights, you should be the most bitter of enemies, and yet you clasp her to you and call her wife. How do you resolve this contradiction?"

_How dare you saunter up and ask me that_? But the words died on the Celt's lips, because she had been wondering exactly the same thing. Because Nero had been right—even if she had not commanded the troops that destroyed the Iceni, her indifference had made possible their atrocities. For all her whispered assurances to herself last night, she was sure her warriors would indeed see her actions as betrayal. And yet…

"I can't change the past, no matter how much I wish it otherwise," she murmured, her eyes straying to the glowing surface of the heating grill. "And I can't control the future, no matter how much I try to prepare for it. We are all hostage to fate, in one degree or another. But…"

She drew herself up. "I can live in the present. Here and now, I can change things for the better. Every choice I make, every blade I lift and every smile I protect, makes a difference however small. Here and now, I am needed. Here and now, I have a home. I won't let my regrets and my grudges get in the way."

A gentle smile curved her lips. "My past is what defines me, but it does not control me. I can choose to love Nero, despite everything that happened. Even if I can't ever forget, I can learn to forgive."

After a few heartbeats of silence, she brought her gaze back up. Carmilla had turned to face the surf. It reminded Boudica that she wasn't alone.

"Why do you ask?"

Carmilla's only answer was to look out further towards the tide. Boudica followed her gaze to where Liz and Kiyohime were watching with keen interest as Mordred demonstrated how to catch a wave.

Then the vampire's posture shifted, and her gaze took on a hint of wistfulness.

"There are some days when..." she spoke haltingly, her whisper barely audible above the crashing of the waves, "...when color has drained from the world, and all I can see is the red of my past. And there are some days... I wish I could..."

Then her face closed off, regaining its mask of cold indifference. She pushed her sunglasses back up before turning to face Boudica again. "Never mind." She nodded towards the food laid out on the table. "I look forward to the meal."

She walked off without another glance. Boudica watched her for a bit as she wandered down the beach, her heels dragging lines in the sand. _She never eats food, though_. Then she glanced back at Liz, who had snagged a piece of driftwood from somewhere to serve as her microphone. From the disgusted expression on Mordred's face, she could guess that the dragon-girl had offered to reward her with a song. _How does a girl so full of life and color fade into such cold silver?_

"If you wanted a song, you should have asked me," said a reproachful but wonderfully familiar voice behind her. Boudica pivoted around to find her wife pouting at her, hands behind her back.

"No thank you," she said quickly, then seeing the flash of hurt in Nero's eyes, she hastily added, "I'd much rather make you sing tonight."

The Roman beamed at the promise of another busy night, and Boudica sighed in relief. As much as she loved her wife, some crimes were simply beyond the pale.

"Oh, by the way," said Nero after a moment, with affected levity that did not hide the eager sparkle in her eyes, "I got you something!"

She thrust her hands forward, showing off a necklace of small seashells threaded on string. Their scalloped forms shone iridescent in the sunlight, shimmering prettily in swirling blues and greens.

"Cleopatra helped me make it!" she said brightly. "You deserve to be showered in gold and pearls, but this will have to do to convey my sentiments."

Nero held the necklace up invitingly. Boudica smiled as she reflected that she would have hated to have anything from Rome's treasury touch her skin. But this necklace, made clumsily but with real sentiment from the nurturing earth and sea…

"It's beautiful," she said, and meant it. "Thank you, Nero."

Her once enemy, now her beloved partner, beamed as she placed it around the Celt's neck. "Don't worry, I'll come up with something better once—"

Boudica caught her hand and pressed a kiss on the knuckles. "It's perfect. You made it for me, and that's all I can ask for."

The blonde's smile widened. "So we're taking it home with us?"

"Obviously," said Boudica with a slight huff. "I could never leave any happy memory with you abandoned on the shore." She might have winced at saying something so embarrassing, but for the way Nero's eyes lit up in elation. What was a bit of saccharinity, when it brought such joy to the love of her life?

She held her hand out. "Shall we?"

"Yes," purred Nero as she took it, interlacing their fingers. "Home sounds nice."

"Yeah. It really does."

* * *

And so we come to the finale. Here's what my good friend **TungstenCat** has to say about that.

"Thank you for reading, and taking another step into rarepair hell with us. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go look up more pictures of servants in Nero's bride outfit and it's all Minerva's fault."

It is my fault. Nero Bride is extremely hot on her own, but damn, does Jalter work it well... sorry, what was I saying?

This chapter took a while to get right because it's so hard to execute all these fine points of angst and not have them feel excessive. It might still feel that way to some of you, but Boudica _needed_ her character arc, and both Tunko and I refuse to deny her the ability to come to terms with this. That is what _Two Sides of a Sesterce_ is all about: a Heroic Spirit is defined by their past, but they aren't _controlled_ by it.

Thank you for taking this journey with us. It was fun the whole step of the way. We will be back in the next entry into the _Yuri Chaldea_ series eventually, because Lord knows a premise like that is just begging to be written.

Your ending theme is _Heretics of Purity_ by **kegani** featuring **DracoVirgo****.**

Thanks for reading.


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